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THE  HOUR   WHICH  COMETH,  AND  iVOlK  IS 


SERMONS 


PREACHED    IN 


INDIANA-PLACE    CHAPEL,    BOSTON, 


BY 


JAMES   FREEMAN   CLARKE. 


BOSTON: 

203  Washington  Street. 
1868. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1868,  by 

WILLIA3I   V.  SPENCER, 

lu  the  Clerk's  Ofilce  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


Stirf/ityped  at  the  Boston  Stereotype  Foundry, 
in  Spring  Lane. 


Presawork  by  John  Wilson  and  Son. 


PREFACE. 


fTlHESE  Sermons,  having  been  mostly  written  in  the 
-^  course  of  the  great  American  conflict  of  freedom 
against  slavery,  are  necessarily  frequent  in  allusions  to 
this  war.  Surrounded  with  those  whose  sons,' broth- 
ers, and  friends  were  fighting  and  falling  on  so  many 
bloody  fields,  this  dark  background  is  seen  behind  the 
figures  in  each  discourse. 

I  suppose  that  repetition  of  ideas  and  thoughts  may 
be  sometimes  noticed  by  the  reader.  Such  repetition 
is  a  defect  in  works  of  pure  theory  or  intellectual  sci- 
ence; but,  in  practical  and  spiritual  works,  we  need, 
as  in  music,  frequent  variations  on  the  same  themes. 

The  present  edition  differs  only  from  the  previous 
one,  in  omitting  the  last  discourse,  on  the  "Diary  of 
1863,"  and  adding  those  on  "Kelation  of  Christ  to  the 
Soul,"  "The  Man  of  Sin,"  "Melchizedek  and  his 
Moral,"  "Negative  and  Positive  Religion,"  "Weeds," 


(3) 


4  PREFACE. 

"The   Summer  is  Ended,"  and  "God  save  the  Com- 
monweahh  of  Massachusetts." 

For  the  favor  with  which  this  volume  of  Sermons 
(preached  to  the  Church  of  the  Disciples  in  the  regu- 
lar course  of  duty)  has  been  received,  I  feel  grateful, 
and  hope  the  new  edition  will  meet  a  like  reception. 

James   Freeman  Clarke. 
Boston,  April,  18G8. 


CONTENTS 


Page 

I.  The  Hour  which  cometh,  and  now  is.         .        .      1 

II.     The  Letter  and  the  Spirit 12 

III.  Prophets    who    have    been    since    the  World 

BEGAN 24 

IV.  Steps  of  Belief.     ....         ...     34 

V.  The  Thorn  in  the  Flesh.          .        .        ,        ,         43 

VI.  Faithful  over  a  few  Things,       ,        -        .        .53 

VII.     MoitAL  Perspectives. 66 

VIII.  ''If  he  sleep,  he  shall  do  well."      ,        ,        .76 

IX.     Stand  Still 87 

X.     Grow  Up 101 

XI.  Life-Weariness.          ,        .         ....       109 

XII.     The  Fragments.       . 119 

XIII.  All  Souls  are  God's.         .....       131 

XIV.  "The  Accepted  Time." 141 

XV.  "When  he  came  to  Himself."          ,        .        .       150 

XVI.     The  Cheerful  Giver 160 

XVII.     The  Grace  of  God 174 

XVIII.  "No  Man  cared  for  my  Soul."   ....  185 

XIX.  Life  and  the  Resurrection.     .        .    *    .        .       195 

(5) 


6  CONTENTS. 

XX.  Power  of  the  Keys 218 

XXI.  The  Proper  and  the  Becoming.       .        .        .       235 

XXII.  Tub  Favorite  Texts  op  Jesus 24G 

XXIII.  He  who  exalteth  Himself 258 

XXIV.  Relation  op  Christ  to  the  Soul.        .        .         .  269 
XXV.  The  Man  of  Sin 282 

XXVI.  Melchizedek  and  his  Moral 295 

XXVII.  Negative  and  Positive  Religion.     .        .        .314 

XXVIII.  Weeds 330 

XXIX.  The  Summer  is  Ended 342 

XXX.  '*  God    save   the  Commonwealth  of   Massachu- 
setts."      352 


SERMONS 


THE  HOUR  WHICH  COMETH,  AND  NOW  IS. 
John  iv.  23:  ''The  hour  cometh,  and  now  is." 

THIS  remarkable  phrase  is  used  twice  by  our  Master,  — 
once  in  regard  to  the  true  worship  of  the  Father,  which 
he  declares  to  be  coming,  and  to  be  already  present ;  and, 
again,  in  regard  to  those  who  are  in  their  graves  hearing  his 
voice :  they  shall  hear  it,  he  says,  and  they  hear  it  now. 
In  somewhat  the  same  way,  he  says  of  the  harvest  of  faith 
which  his  disciples  are  to  gather  in.  It  will  be  harvest-time 
in  four  months,  you  say.  Look  !  I  see  the  harvest  ready 
to  be  gathered  now. 

This  blending  of  future  and  present  is  in  the  very  nature 
of  prophecy,  which  sees  what  is  coming  in  what  now  is ; 
which  sees  the  fruit  in  the  flower,  the  flower  in  the  bud ; 
which  sees  the  action  to  be  in  the  motive  which  now  is  at 
work;  which  perceives  that  an 'idea  is  potent  enough  to  de- 
velop itself  into  a  long  series  of  actions  ;  which  recognizes 
the  antitype  in  its  type  ;  and,  in  one  lightning-flash  of  spir- 
itual perception,  sees  a  whole  landscape  leaping  out  of  the 
darkness  of  the  future  into  the  momentary  illumination  of 
the  present. 

1  (1) 


2  THE    HOUR    WHICH    COMKTH,    AND    NOW   IS. 

There  is  «a  future  of  which  we  know  nothing  till  it  has 
arrived :  there  is  another  future,  which  we  know  before  it 
comes.  )Some  thiniis  can  be  foreseen  almost  as  if  they  were 
seen.  Some  things  are  here  already,  potentially,  beibre  they 
are  here  actually,  —  are  here  in  their  seeds  and  roots,  before 
they  are  here  in  their  fruits  and  results.  "There  is  a  field 
of  grain,"  says  the  farmer.  "  Grain  !  "  you  reply.  "  I  see 
nothing  there  :  there  is  only  black  earth."  "  Yes,"  the  farm- 
er answers :  "  it  is  sown  with  grain."  When  the  seed  is 
there,  the  grain  is  virtually  there. 

Therefore  we  celebrate  the  birthdays  of  great  men,  re- 
garding each  of  them  as  the  seed  of  a  great  I'uture.  We  keep 
the  22d  of  February,  and  close  our  banks,  fire  cannon,  listen 
to  orations,  because  on  that  day  a  little  child  was  born  in 
whose  coming  came  the  deliverance  of  America  from  Euro- 
pean vassalage.  Fifty  years  passed  from  the  birthday  of  the 
child  before  he  did  his  work  ;  but  we  celebrate  not  the  day 
when  the  work  was  done,  but  the  day  when  the  child  was 
born  to  do  it.  Tiic  whole  nation  goes  back  to  the  cradle  of 
George  Washington,  and  says,  "  The  hour  comes,  and  now 
is,  when  America  shall  be  free."  So  we  celebrate  Christ- 
mas, the  birthday  of  Christ.  So  all  Christendom  goes,  on 
that-  sacred  morning,  with  the  Eastern  Magi,  to  offer  its 
gifts  of  grateful  love  to  the  little  unconscious  infant.  So,  in 
Catholic  prayer-books  to-day,  we  find  prayers  addressed  to 
the  infant  Jesus  ;  that  is,  prayers  to  a  purely  ideal  being,  — 
to  a  being  who  does  not  exist :  for  surely  there  is  no  infant 
Jesus  now  !  Yet  so  clearly  do  we  see  that  the  essence  of  a 
great  event  is  not  in  the  thing  done,  but  in  the  power  which 
is  to  do  it,  that,  when  Christ  is  born,  we  regard  Christianity 
as  established. 

With  the  same  ideal  tendency,  the  same  disposition*to  put 
the  idea  of  a  thing  above  the  actual  thing,  we  keep  tl'.e  4th 
of  July  as  the  day  of  National  In(k'[)endcnce.  But  we  did 
not  become  independent  on  the  4th  of  July,  177G:  we  be- 


THE  HOUR  WHICH  COMETH,  AND  NOW  IS.       3 

came  indepeudent  not  till  some  years  after  that.  All  that 
was  done  on  the  4th  of  July  was  the  enunciation  of  the  idea 
of  independence.  The  purpose,  the  resolution,  the  determi- 
nation, were  born  that  day:  so  we  celebrate  the  birth  of 
Independence  on  that  day. 

There  are  some  things,  no  doubt,  which  are  not  here  till 
they  are  accomplished  ;  but  other  things  are  really  here  when 
they  are  begun.  That  which  depends  on  outward  circum- 
stances, on  contrivances,  on  outward  force,  or  will,  is  not 
here  till  the  circumstances  take  place.  The  discovery  of 
America,  the  invention  of  printing,  the  landing  of  the  Pil- 
grims, carry  their  chief  importance  in  the  events  themselves, 
—  not  in  the  idea  lying  back  of  them.  But  everything  which 
depends  on  spiritual  insight  and  moral  purpose  virtually  comes 
when  the  truth  is  seen  and  uttered,  when  the  moral  purpose 
is  declared.  When  Martin  Luther  fixed  his  paper  against 
the  door  of  Wittenberg  Cathedral  on  the  Eve  of  All-Saints, 
1517,  the  Reformation  came.  We  date  the  Reformation 
from  that  day  ;  not  from  the  day  when  the  reformers  agreed 
upon  their  creed  at  Augsburg,  in  1530.  When  the  idea  is 
born,  the  events  flowing  from  that  idea  are  born. 

In  fact,  there  are  certain  truths  which  are  so  commanding 
and  convincing,  that,  when  they  are  once  seen  and  uttered, 
certain  consequences  are  already  logically  certain.  Such 
truths  are  so  adapted  to  the  human  reason,  conscience,  and 
heart,  that  they  must  be  accepted  sooner  or  later.  Such 
truths  are  mighty  powers  introduced  into  human  affairs, 
which  will  produce  inevitable  consequences.  No  jiiatter 
what  is  the  resistance  of  unbelief,  the  obstinacy  of  preju- 
dice, the  bitterness  of  opposing  interests,  the  rage  of  party 
madness  ;  no  matter  what  falsehood,  calumny,  slander,  assail 
their  champion,  —  these  truths  are  mighty,  and  must  prevail, 
though  it  may  be,  as  the  poet  describes  it,  by  means  of 

"  A  friendless  conflict,  lingering  long 
Through  weary  day  and  weary  year." 


AND   NOW   IS. 

The  prophets  of  the  Old  Testament  were  men  to  whom 
God  gave  the  favor  of  seeing  the  future  in  tlie  present ;  of 
seeing  the  hour  which  was  coming,  as  if  it  were  already  ar- 
rived. Standing  on  the  mount  of  vision,  they  overlooked  the 
large  panorama  of  the  future  ;  they  saw  the  waving  forests 
near  at  hand,  the  blue  valleys  below,  the  fields  farther  on 
waving  with  grain,  the  rivers  winding  like  lines  of  light 
through  the  distance,  the  pale  sea  on  the  horizon,  the  faint 
mountain-lines  far  away.  They  saw  in  the  principles  and 
motives,  in  the  ambitions  and  purposes,  already  at  work,  the 
results  that  must  inevitably  follow.  Not  by  any  mere  politi- 
cal sagacity,  which  is  a  very  short-sighted  affair,  but  by  that 
spiritual  iusight  which  sees  the  real  beneath  the  accidental, 
the  inevitable  law  working  amid  all  varying  circumstances, 
the  prophets  saw,  in  grief  and  anguish  of  heart,  the  national 
woes  which  were  to  come  from  national  sins,  and  the  resto- 
ration which  would  follow  national  repentance.  They  saw 
more  still :  they  saw,  in  all  the  mysterious  workings  of  events, 
the  preparation  for  a  higher  revelation  of  truth  and  love. 
They  saw  in  the  whole  Jewish  law  the  preparation  for  a  gos- 
pel higher  than  the  law  ;  in  all  the  Jewish  ritual,  the  prepa- 
ration for  a  worship  of  truth  and  love.  They  saw  the  coming 
of  the  Son  of  man  ;  the  approach  of 

"  That  far-off,  divine  event, 
To  which  the  whole  creation  tends." 

Some  kind  of  prophetic  sight  akin  to  this  supports  all  great 
reformers,  —  all  those  who  are  struggling  to  establish  spir- 
itual ideas,  moral  principles.  They  see  the  thing  they  are 
to  do  almost  as  if  it  Avere  already  done.  Trusting  them- 
selves to  the  simple  power  of  truth,  having  faith  in  God  and 
in  the  human  heart,  they  feel  strong  enough  to  battle  alone 
against  a  world.  The  Jesuit,  who  has  made  a  great  eccle- 
siastical maciiine  ;  who  has  built  up,  cunningly,  a  system  of 
ciiecks  and  balances  ;  who  has  organized  an  army  of  monk- 


THE  HOUR  WHICH   COMETH,  AND  NOW  IS.  6 

ish  soldiers,  which  he  wields  in  the  cause  of  Holy  Church  ; 
who  induces  rich  people  to  leave  him  their  money,  in  order 
to  save  their  souls ;  who  manages  statesmen  and  kings 
through  their  confessors,  and  lays  his  hand  on  the  colleges 
and  schools  of  a  nation  in  order  to  proselyte  little  children, 
—  he  has  his  hour,  too,  but  it  is  only  the  hour  of  success. 
When  his  plans  fail,  when  his  schemes  are  detected,  when 
his  cunning  is  baffled  by  a  deeper  sagacity,  he  has  no  re- 
source. His  failure  is  certain.  But  the  man  who  trusts  in 
truth  never  fails.  Savonarola  and  Huss,  on  the  scaffold  and 
at  the  stake,  were  just  as  sure  of  victory  as  if  they  saw  it 
present.  We  are  no  more  certain  now  of  the  coming  end 
of  slavery  than  FoUen  and  Channing  were  when  they  died ; 
though  then  slavery  seemed  triumphant.  All  these  could 
say,  "  The  hour  cometh,  and  now  is."  All  saw  the  future 
in  the  present.  Toussaint  L'Ouverture,  in  his  dungeon,  was 
more  sure  of  the  success  of  his  cause  than  Napoleon  of  his. 
Wordsworth  well  said  to  him,  — 

*'  Live,  and  take  comfort.     Thou  hast  left  behind 
Powers  that  will  work  for  thee,  —  air,  earth,  and  skies. 
There's  not  a  breathing  of  the  common  wind 
That  will  forget  thee  :  thou  hast  great  allies. 
Thy  friends  are  exultations,  agonies, 
And  love,  and  man's  unconquerable  mind." 

When  Jesus  said,  "  The  hour  cometh,  and  now  is,  when 
the  true  worshippers  shall  worship  the  Father  in  spirit  and 
in  truth,"  he  only  on  the  surface  of  the  earth  knew  what  true 
worship  was.  Men  worshipped  God,  as  though  he  loved 
sacrifices  ;  as  though  he  took  pleasure  in  seeing  his  creatures 
torment  themselves  ;  as  though  he  were  far  off,  and  could  not 
easily  hear ;  as  though  he  were  angry,  and  had  to  be  ap- 
peased ;  as  though  he  loved  to  be  praised  ;  as  if  he  were 
capable  of  being  teased,  by  much  speaking,  into  consent ;  as 
if  a  solemn  form  were  agreeable  to  him.     But  Jesus  saw  in 


6  THE   HOUR   WHICH   COMETH,   AND   NOW  IS. 

his  heart  tliut  diviner  worship,  tlie  love  of  a  chikl  to  its  father 
and  mother  ;  the  trust  of  a  weak  creature  in  a  perfectly  wise, 
good,  and  great  Being;  the  confidence  of  a  sinful  creature 
in  one  all  mercy  and  compassion  ;  the  worship  which  does 
not  need  to  speak  in  order  to  be  heard ;  which  is  the  motion 
of  a  hidden  fire  that  trembles  in.  the  breast ;  that  worship, 
which,  when  it  comes,  will  make  every  place  a  church,  every 
day  the  Lord's  day,  all  work  devotion,  all  joy  thanksgiving, 
all  events  blessings,  and  all  of  nature  and  life  full  of  God. 
Jesus,  feeling  this  worship  in  his  own  soul,  and  knowing  its 
beauty,  majesty,  and  power,  saw  that  all  other  worship  ;  all 
of  mere  form,  ceremony,  ritual ;  all  of  worship  born  of  fear, 
anxiety,  doubt ;  all  prayer  to  which  men  are  dragged  by 
conscience  or  led  by  custom,  —  must  cease  and  determine, 
when  this  divine  and  heavenly  worship  is  once  known.  So 
he  said,  "  The  hour  cometh,  and  now  is." 

And  so,  on  the  other  occasion,  Avhen  he  said.  The  hour 
cometh,  and  now  is,  when  all  that  are  in  their  graves  shall 
hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  man,  and  come  forth,  to  the 
resurrection  of  life  or  the  resurrection  of  judgment.  Come 
out  of  their  graves,  —  the  graves  of  ignorance,  error,  sin ; 
out  of  the  graves  of  selfishness,  sensuality,  falsehood  ;  out 
of  the  graves  of  worldliness,  covetousness,  cunning,  and 
fraud,  in  which  they  have  buried  themselves.  He  saw  that 
his  Father  would  one  day  reach  every  soul ;  in  this  world, 
or  in  the  next  Avorld,  or  in  some  world,  would  reach  every 
soul  of  man.  He  saw,  that  sooner  or  later,  as  long  as  in 
every  man  there  is  heart,  reason,  and  conscience,  the  reason 
must  at  last  see  the  truth,  the  conscience  must  feel  it,  the 
heart  must  love  it.  And  so  all  in  their  graves  shall  hear 
his  voice  and  come  up,  —  the  faithful  to  sec  their  own  faith- 
fulness rewarded  with  entrance  into  iiiller  lii'c  ;  the  uufaithiul 
to  be  judged,  to  know  at  last  the  evil  of  their  evil,  and  so 
take  also  the  first  step  back  towards  good  :  therefore  a  res- 
urrection, a  rising-up,  for  all,  —  a  risiug-up  of  tlie  good  into 


love^  a  rising-up  of  tlie  evil  into  truth.  lie  saw  that  distant 
day  as  though  already  here,  because  he  had  once  for  all 
spoken  the  immortal  truth,  to  which  sooner  or  later  every 
knee  should  bow,  of  things  in  heaven,  and  things  on  earth, 
and  things  under  the  earth.  And  so,  dying  on  the  cross ; 
disgraced,  defeated,  conquered ;  forsaken  by  his  friends,  be- 
trayed by  his  own  disciples,  leaving  not  one  on  earth  who 
understood  him,  —  he  could  say  to  his  Father,  "I  have  glo- 
rified thee  on  the  earth  ;  1  have  finished  the  work  thou  gavest 
me  to  do." 

If  he  saw  it  then,  surely  we  may  see  it  now.  If  every 
one  of  the  "  glorious  company  of  the  apostles,  the  goodly 
fellowship  of  the  prophets,  and  the  noble  army  of  martyrs," 
saw,  each  in  his  prison,  at  his  stake,  in  his  lowly,  thankless 
toil,  amid  hatred,  persecution,  and  opposition,  —  saw  the  day 
of  triumph  coming,  as  though  it  had  already  come,  —  we 
surely  can  see  the  day  of  a  purified  Christianity,  of  a  freed 
Church,  of  the  marriage-supper  of  nature  and  revelation, 
reason  and  religion,  works  and  faith,  morality  and  piety. 

Yes,  the  hour  cometh,  and  now  is,  when  Christian  doc- 
trine shall  be  redeemed  from  the  Jewish  and  Pagan  errors 
which  have  clung  to  it,  and  so  be  brought  back  to  the  sim- 
plicity of  Christ ;  when  men  shall  no  more  be  taught  to  be 
afraid  of  God,  as  though  he  were  angry,  and  had  to  be  ap- 
peased by  a  bloody  sacrifice  ;  no  more  be  driven  from  their 
dear  Father  by  Pagan  doctrines  concerning  his  need  of  some 
expiatory  victim,  before  he  can  forgive  his  children.  They 
will  no  more  be  taught  that  man  is  all  corrupt  and  evil,  — 
nothing  but  sin :  they  will  be  taught  to  see  in  every  soul 
something  good,  something  allied  to  God,  some  conscience, 
some  heart,  something  of  holy  fire  lingering  under  the  ashes 
of  vice  and  sin.  The  hour  cometh,  and  kow  is,  when 
men  shall  learn  to  respect  human  nature,  and  not  despise  it 
as  wholly  corrupt ;  and  then  they  will  love  each  other.  The 
HOUE  COMETH,  AND  NOW  IS,  when  they  will  look  on  the 


8      THE  HOUR  WHICH  COMETH,  AND  NOW  IS.  ^ 

vicious  and  the  criminal  with  pity,  not  contempt,  and  try  to 
help  them  out  of  their  evil ;  when  those  who  have  been 
abandoned,  and  left  without  any  sympathy  or  brotherly  aid, 
shall  be  sought  out  and  taught  and  saved.  Then  tlic  Chris- 
tian Church,  united  by  the  holy  spirit  of  humanity  and  broth- 
erly love,  will  come  together,  and  be  at  one  ;  the  Catholic 
no  longer  hating  the  Protestant,  nor  the  Orthodox  despising 
the  lieretic,  but  all  working  together  in  the  great  cause  of 
human  improvement.     That  iiouii  cometii,  and  now  is. 

It  is  told  of  Michael  Angelo,  that,  M'hen  he  had  spent  two 
years  in  painting  the  frescoes  on  the  ceiling  of  the  Sistiue 
Ciiapel,  he  had  acquired  such  a  habit  of  looking  up,  that  he 
could  not  look  down ;  and,  if  he  wished  to  read  a  letter,  he 
had  to  hold  it  iip  above  his  forehead  in  order  to  see  it.  The 
Clirislian  Church  has  placed  Christianity  fco  entirely  in  the 
worship  of  God,  who  is  over  all,  that  it  has  lost  the  power 
of  seeing  the  same  God,  who  is  through  all,  and  in  us  all. 
It  only  sees  God  above  us,  not  God  in  nature  around,  not 
God  in  man's  human  soul.  Its  religion,  therefore,  has  all 
gone  into  worship,  into  churches,  into  Sundays.  But  tue 
HOUR  COMETH,  AND  NOW  IS,  when  Christianity  is  to  be  seen 
in  the  street,  in  the  shop,  in  all  human  life,  and  God  to  be 
felt  as  "  all  in  all." 

Certainly  we  may  say,  that  the  hour  cometh,  and  now  is, 
when  a  rational  and  humane  religion  shall  take  the  place  of 
a  religion  of  form  and  dogma.  Do  we  not  see  how  every 
man,  who  preaches  and  teaches  in  any  way  this  religion  of 
love,  takes  hold  of  the  hearts  of  all  men,  even  those  who 
seem  the  most  rigid  aiul  the  most  closely  imprisoned  in  their 
creeds?  See  what  a  general  respect  and  love  have  come 
around  the  memory  of  Tlieodore  Parker  !  —  not  because  of 
his  opposition  to  the  supernatural  part  of  Christianity,  but 
in  spite  of  that  opposition.  It  is  because  of  his  broad  hu- 
manity, his  generous  love  of  truth,  justice,  and  right.  See 
how  such   men   as   Robertson  in  England,  and  Beccher  iu 


AND   NOW   IS.  9 

America,  guide  the  hearts  and  the  thoughts  of  tens  of  thou- 
sands, because  they  are  prophets  of  this  great  future,  —  of  the 
day  when  God  and  Christ  shall  be  seen  to  be  the  friends  of 
all  human  beings,  and  reason  and  revelation  be  wholly  at 
one  !  And  see  the  universal  expression  of  esteem  and  love 
which  has  risen  from  the  whole  land  like  a  cloud  of  incense, 
honoring  the  heroic  and  generous  soul  of  our  own  brother 
Starr  King  !  The  "  New  York  Indep^dent "  forgets  that  he 
was  a  Unitarian  and  Universalist,  and  honors  him  with  warm 
tears  of  affectionate  sorrow.  The  Democratic  papers  forget 
that  he  was  Antislavery  and  Republican,  and  give  the  truest 
and  best  testimonies  to  his  character  and  worth.  It  is  be- 
cause he  was  a  youthful  prophet  and  example  of  the  hour 
WHICH  COMETH,  AND  NOW  IS ;  of  the  future  day  of  the 
Church  and  State  ;  of  the  religion  of  reason,  justice,  human- 
ity ;  of  the  Christ  who  is  to  come,  and  is  already  here. 

There  are  those,  who,  taking  a  literal  view  of  Scripture, 
teach  that  Jesus  Christ  is  coming  back  to  earth  in  some  par- 
ticular year,  in  outward  form,  and  in  some  particular  place. 
No  doubt  he  is  coming.  His  hour  cometh,  and  now  is.  He 
is  coming  more  abundantly,  just  as  he  has  come  already,  in 
a  greater  inspiration  of  faith,  a  greater  sense  of  the  nearness 
of  God,  a  greater  love  for  God  and  man,  a  universal  out- 
flowing of  humanity  and  brotherhood  to  all.  That  is  the 
second  coming  of  Christ,  and  the  only  second  coming  that 
has  any  significance  or  value  to  us.  If  he  should  come  out- 
wardly in  the  sky,  with  the  noise  of  a  trumpet  and  a  great 
light,  that  would  be  only  a  portent,  a  wonder,  —  something 
to  excite  astonishment,  fear,  admiration  ;  but  it  would  not 
make  a  single  man  any  more'of  a  Christian  than  he  is  now. 
That  was  the  sort  of  sign  which  the  Jews  wanted,  and  of 
which  Christ  said,  "  An  evil  and  adulterous  generation  seeketh 
after  a  sign  ;  and  there  shall  no  sign  be  given  them  but  that 
of  the  Prophet  Jonah." 

Jesus  comes  as  his  truth  comes,  as  his  love  comes.     He 


10  THE    HOUR   WHICH    COxMETH,    AND   NOW   IS. 

comes  with  his  Fiither  to  tlwcll  iu  us,  and  wc  ia  him.  As  he 
comes  so,  every  knee  bows.  Sin  is  conquered.  The  last 
enemy,  death,  is  overcome.  Christ  comes  to  redeem  us  from 
the  power  of  all  evil.  Tlien  heaven  cometii,  and  now  is. 
Then,  God's  will  bein*^  done  on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven, 
heaven  begins  here.  It  is  here  already  in  its  seeds  and 
roots ;  and  we  have  the  foretaste  of  the  world  to  come,  the 
first-l'ruits  of  a  higher  life,  while  we  are  yet  dwelling  in 
this. 

And  so,  lastly,  we  realize  that  death  is  nothing ;  that  we 
are  ah-oady  immortal ;  that  the  hour  of  immortal  life  com- 
etii, and  now  is.  Death  ceases  to  exist  to  a  Christian.  He 
looks  forward  to  the  time  when  he  shall  fall  asleep,  and  wake 
again,  surrounded  by  all  whom  he  loves,  and  who  love  him  ; 
by  tlie  spirits  of  the  just  made  perfect;  and  sliall  fmd  the 
truth  of  what  Plato  and  Milton  said,  —  that  what  we  call 
life  is  death,  and  what  we  call  death  is  life.  For  Plato  says 
iu  a  striking  passage  iu  his  Gorgias^  "  I  should  not  wonder 
if  Euripides  spoke  truth  when  he  said,  '  Who  knows  if  to 
live  is  not  really  to  die,  and  to  die  really  to  live ;  and  that 
we  now  are,  in  reality,  dead?  Our  present  existence  is  per- 
haps our  death,  and  this  body  our  tomb.'"  And  so  Milton 
says,  — 

"  Meekly  thou  didst  resign  this  cartlily  load 

Of  death,  called  life,  Avhich  us  from  life  dotli  sever." 

That  which  Plato  and  Euripides  thought  possible,  Jesus 
saiu  to  be  real ;  and  so  he  said,  ''  He  who  liveth  and  believeth 
in  me  sliall  never  die."  So  he  always  called  death  sleep ; 
so  his  disciples  said  that  he  had  abolished,  annihilated  death  ; 
so  he  took  away  its  terror  out  of  their  hearts  ;  and  they  felt 
that  though  to  live  was  to  be  with  him,  yet  to  die  was  to  gain 
more  than  they  lost. 

Thus  it  is  that  immortality  and  heaven  are  coming,  because 
they  arc  already  here.     Thus  it  is  that  true  Avorship,  pure 


THE   HOUR   WHICH   COMETH,   AND    NOW  IS.  11 

Christianity,  humane  religion,  are  sure  to  come  in  their  full 
and  ripe  harvest,  because  they  are  already  here  in  their  seed 
and  germ.  So  it  is,  that  the  living  experience  and  the  deep 
convictions  of  the  human  heart  are  always  a  sure  word  of 
prophecy  of  the  glory  which  is  to  be  revealed ;  and  the  life 
which  comes  now  from  God  and  Christ  is  the  promise  and 
assurance  of  the  life  which  is  to  come  hereafter. 


11. 

THE  LETTER  AND  THE   SPIRIT. 
2  Cor.  iii,  G:  "Who  also  iiatii  made  us  able  jiinisters  of  the 

NEW  COTEN-INT  :  NOT  OP  THE  LETTER,  BUT  OF  THE  SPIRIT ;  FOR 
THE    LETTER    KILLETII,    BUT    THE    SPIRIT    GIVETIl    LIFE." 

Rom.  ii.  28,  29:  "He  is  not  a  jew  which  is  one  outwardly: 

BUT  HE  IS  A  JEW  W'HICH  IS  ONE  INAVARDLY ;  IN  THE  SPIRIT, 
AND  NOT  IN  THE  LETTER;  WHOSE  PR.USE  IS  NOT  OF  MEN,  BUT 
OF   GOD." 

THE  chief  distiuction  between  man  and  man,  in  any  pur- 
suit or  occupation,  is  this,  —  that  the  one  sees  the  spirit 
of  a  thing,  and  works  in  that ;  the  other,  only  the  letter, 
and  sticks  in  that. 

For  in  everything  there  is  a  spirit  and  a  letter.  It  is  not 
merely  in  the  Bible,  but  everywhere.  Everything  which 
exists,  exists  literally  and  spiritually  ;  in  its  form  and  its 
essence  ;  in  its  body  and  its  soul. 

For  example  :  Suppose  a  man  should  undertake  to  de- 
scTibe  a  landscape,  —  a  scene  in  the  "White  Mountains,  or  in 
the  heart  of  the  Mississippi  Valley.  lie  might  give  you  the 
height  and  position  of  the  mountains  ;  state  accurately  the 
size  of  the  trees,  and  the  position  of  everything  in  the  fore- 
ground, the  middle  distance,  aud  beyond  :  but  he  would  not 
give  you  anything,  after  all,  but  a  number  of  details.  An- 
other man.  with  a  few  suggestive  words,  would  place  you  in 
the  scene  itself.  You  would  feel  the  majestic  presence  of  the 
mouutaiu,  with  its  varying  shades  of  sombre,  dusky  green, 
or  its  j)urple  tints  melting  into  aerial  blue.     You  would  i'eel 

(12) 


THE   LETTER   AND   THE   SPIRIT.  13 

the  air  stirring  among  the  great  multitude  of  leaves,  and 
"waking  the  deep  silence  of  the  forest.  You  would  feel  the 
life  of  the  great  sycamores,  reaching  out  their  white  arms 
over  the  lazy  streams.  The  one  description,  though  perfectly 
accurate,  would  awaken  no  interest,  suggest  no  picture,  and 
be  forgotten  in  an  hour  :  the  other  would  fill  your  imagina- 
tion with  the  presence  of  Nature  herself;  and  years  after, 
when  it  came  up  to  you,  you  would  scarcely  know  whether 
it  was  some  place  you  had  heard  described,  or  some  place 
where  you  had  been  yourself.  The  one  gave  you  the  letter 
of  the  scene  ;  the  other,  its  spirit.  I  recollect  several  such 
descriptions  which  I  read  in  childhood  ;  and  they  seem  like 
something  I  have  seen.  Some  of  Walter  Scott's  descriptions 
are  of  that  kind.  Shakespeare's  are  all  so.  Take,  for  ex- 
ample, his  description  of  a  brook  :  — 

"  The  current  that  with  gentle  murmur  glides, 
Thou  know'st,  being  stopt,  impatiently  doth  rage ; 
But,  when  his  fair  course  is  not  hindered, 
He  makes  sweet  music  with  the  enamelled  stones, 
Giving  a  gentle  kiss  to  every  sedge 
He  overtaketh  in  his  pilgrimage  : 
And  so,  by  many  winding  nooks,  he  strays, 
"With  willing  sport,. to  the  wild  ocean." 

The  peculiarity  of  this  description  is,  that  the  brook  is  alive 
all  through  :  it  "  glides  gently  ;  "  it  "  rages  impatiently  ;  "  it 
kisses  the  sedge  ;  it  is  a  pilgrim,  straying  with  willing  sport 
to  the  ocean,  which  is  also  alive  and  "  wild,"  untamed  by 
man.  So  Milton,  so  Wordsworth,  so  Tennyson,  so  all  great 
poets,  describe  Nature  ;  not  aS  in  an  auctioneer's  catalogue, 
or  as  on  a  surveyor's  map,  but  discovering  everywhere  its 
soul.     Milton  describes  the  sun,  — 

"Who,  scarce  uprisen, 
With  wheels  yet  hovering  o'er  tlic  ocean-brim, 
Shot  parallel  to  the  earth  his  dewy  ray ;  " 


14  THE   LETTER   AND   THE   SPIRIT. 

Avliich  gives  you  an  image  of  Apollo  in  his  car.     But  he 
describes   the    same    sunrise   elsewhere   by    making   him   a 

king  :  — 

"  Right  against  the  eastern  gate, 
Whore  the  great  sim  begins  his  state, 
Robed  in  flowers  and  amber  light." 

And  so  he  makes  the  moon  a  traveller  through  the  sky,  — 

"  Like  one  that  had  been  led  astray 
Through  the  heaven's  wide,  pathless  way ; 
And  oft,  as  if  her  liead  she  bowed, 
Stooping  through  a  fleecy  cloud." 

It  is  not  the  chemistry  of  Nature,  which  is  its  letter,  not 
the  proportions  of  silex  and  alumina  in  the  landscape,  which 
touch  us  most,  and  are  most  valuable :  but  the  soul  of  Na- 
ture, the  glory  and  beauty  which  no  tongue  can  describe, 
which  poetry  only  can  suggest,  never  catalogue  ;  the  soul  of 
peace,  of  harmony ;  the  soul  which  seems  almost  to  speak  to 
us,  —  this  is  what  brings  us  near  to  God,  and  gives  the  out- 
ward world  its  highest  value.  Neither  the  Greeks  nor  the 
Jews  saw  much  of  this  soul  in  Nature.  Christianity  has 
enabled  us  to  feel  it,  and  has  created  in  us  the  power  by 
which,  in  modern  times  and  in  modern  poetry,  man  and 
Nature  come  into  communion  and  harmony.  Tliis  is  a  part 
of  the  atoning  work  of  Christ,  —  to  make  man  at  one  with 
Nature  around  him.  Nature  was  terrible  to  the  Old  AVorld, 
—  full  of  a  demoniac  spirit.  Lucretius  traces  all  Pagan  re- 
ligion to  a  fear  of  natural  portents.  Christianity  has  recon- 
ciled man  and  Nature,  and  made  us  feel  that  she  is  our  mother 
and  our  friend. 

So,  in  every  man,  there  is  the  letter  and  the  spirit.  You 
can  describe  him  by  enumerating  his  actions,  and  giving  his 
phrenological  tendencies,  —  so  much  conscientiousness,  so 
much  reverence,  so  much  combativeness ;  but  a  deeper  saga- 
city goes  below  all  this,  and  finds  the  man's  soul,  that  which 


THE   LETTER   AND   THE   SPIRIT.  15 

gives  unity  to  his  life.  Love  is  more  sagacious  still :  it 
feels,  by  a  sure  iustiuct,  the  inmost  character,  and  is  wiser 
than  wisdom.  You  cannot  know  any  one  till  you  love  him  ; 
because,  till  then,  you  only  know  him  externally :  the  secret 
of  his  life  you  do  not  know.  We  feel  that  no  one  under- 
stands us  who  does  not  love  us  ;  for  beneath  all  our  actions 
and  all  our  opinions,  all  our  outward  life  and  character,  there 
is  the  inward  stress  and  tendency  of  our  nature,  our  aspira- 
tion, our  longing,  our  struggle ;  which  is  so  deep  down,  that 
no  one  knows  it  unless  by  sympathy. 

Look  at  two  portraits  :  one  gives  the  features  ;  the  other, 
the  soul.  One  is  after  the  letter  ;  the  other,  after  the  spirit. 
In  one,  you  have  the  outside  of  the  man,  —  his  husk,  his 
shell,  the  mask  he  wears  :  in  the  other,  there  is  a  revelation 
of  his  inmost  nature.  The  last  is  the  only  kind  of  portrait 
of  a  friend  I  ever  care  to  have. 

I  recollect  very  well  the  first  time  I  ever  saw  those  wori- 
derful  portraits,  by  the  great  masters  of  art,  which  thus  give 
us  the  soul  of  the  man  they  paint.  I  recollect  a  picture  of 
Ignatius  Loyola,  by  Rubens,  at  Warwick  Castle  ;  one  of 
Grotius,  by  Rembrandt,  at  the  Bodleian  Library  in  Oxford  ; 
one  by  Titian,  at  Hampton  Court.  It  seemed  as  if  I  could 
never  see  enough  of  them.  I  went  on,  and  returned  again 
to  look  more  and  more.  In  these  pictures,  there  was  told 
the  whole  history  of  the  man's  life,  —  all  its  stormy  adven- 
ture, all  its  earnest  longing ;  agonies  of  thought,  patiently 
endured ;  the  soul  refined  by  fires  of  suffering,  by  infinite 
toil,  until,  at  last,  it  had  reached  the  summit  of  self-posses- 
sion and  peace.  I  had  supposed,  till  then,  that  portrait- 
painting  was  an  inferior  domain  of  art ;  but,  after  seeing 
such  revelations  of  character  accomplished  by  portraits,  I 
felt  there  was  nothing  higher. 

And  so,  when  we  come  to  truth,  we  see  how  this  also  has 
a  letter  and  a  spirit.  The  letter  of  Judaism,  says  the  apos- 
tle, was  its  rites,  its  sabbath,  its  sacrifices,  its  priesthood,  its 


16  THE   LETTER    AND   THE   SPIRIT. 

temple.  That  was  all  of  Judaism  that  the  Greeks  and  Ro- 
maus  saw, —  all  that  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  saw.  But 
Paul  says,  "  He  is  not  a  Jew  who  is  one  outwardly  ;  neither 
is  circumcision  that  which  i&  outward  in  the  flesh :  but  he 
is  a  Jew  who  is  one  inwardly ;  and  circumcision  is  of  the 
heart,  in  the  spirit,  and  not  in  the  letter."  Socrates  was 
a  better  Jew,  in  this  sense,  than  Caiaphas  :  Seneca  was  a 
better  Jew  than  Herod. 

But  it  took  clear  insight  and  strong  courage  to  say  this. 
"  What  !  this  great  system  of  ceremonies,  this  great  sacra- 
mental and  sacrificial  system,  which  Jehovah  had  instituted, 
in  order  to  separate  the  Jews  from  all  mankind,  —  is  this 
all  nothing?  and  only  the  inward  spirit,  that  no  one  can  tell 
anything  about,  —  is  that  everything?  This  is  doing  away 
with  all  distinctions,  this  sort  of  transcendental  talk  !"  Con- 
ceive what  the  Pharisees  must  have  thought  of  it. 

The  old  covenant  had  its  spirit  and  its  letter,  and  the  letter 
was  only  for  the  sake  of  the  spirit.  The  spirit  of  the  Old 
Testament  is  its  constant  sense  of  one  God,  supreme,  eternal, 
all  holy,  all  good  ;  who  requires  of  man  justice  and  mercy ; 
whose  law  forbids  all  wrong  from  man  to  man  ;  protects 
the  feeble,  the  poor,  the  stranger,  and  looks  forward  to  the 
triumph  of  good  over  evil,  truth  over  falsehood  ;  foresees  a 
perfect  world  to  come  at  last,  in  which  there  shall  be  no 
more  oppression,  cruelty,  or  sin  ;  in  which  all  shall  know 
God,  from  the  least  to  the  greatest. 

That  is  the  spirit  of  the  Old  Testament,  from  Genesis  to 
Malachi,  —  a  spirit  of  justice  and  faith.  All  tiie  rest  is  its 
letter.  Just  as  God  surrounds  the  juicy  fruit  of  the  palm 
with  a  iiurd  shell,  and,  outside  of  tliat,  with  a  fibrous  husk, 
so  that  tlie  milky  pulp  shall  slowly  sweeten  and  ripen  till  the 
time  comes  for  the  nut  to  iall,  and  then  the  husk  is  torn  olf, 
and  the  shell  broken  ;  so  he  surrounded  the  immature  convic- 
tions of  the  Jewish  nation  with  this  hard  shell  of  ceremony, 
this  tough  husk  of  sacrifices,  meats,  and  sabbaths.     It  kept 


THE  LETTER   AND    THE   SPIRIT.  17 

them  to  themselves.  It  placed  an  element  of  mutual  aver- 
sion between  the  Jew  and  the  Gentile.  So  the  inward  spirit 
ripened  slowly,  from  the  days  of  Moses,  when  the  nation  was 
almost  Egyptian  and  Pagan  ;  through  the  times  of  Elijah, 
when  they  worshipped  the  stately  idols  of  their  Syrian 
neighbors,  the  sun-god  Baal,  and  "  Astarte's  bediamonded 
crescent ;  "  on  through  their  Assyrian  and  Babylonish  cap- 
tivities, when  they  learned  some  truths  from  Persian  Magi ; 
on  through  the  times  of  Ezekiel  and  Zechariah.  The  pro- 
phetic Muse  of  David  sang  to  his  harp  some  melodious 
anticipations  of  Jesus  ;  and  Isaiah,  "rapt  into  future  times," 
announced  a  religion  of  the  spirit  as  above  all  forms.  At 
last,  the  fulness  of  the  time  had  come :  the  husk  and  shell 
of  the  Jewish  religion  were  broken  away,  and  the  fruit 
ripened  out  of  the  law  into  the  gospel. 

But  if  he  is  not  a  Jew  who  is  one  outwardly,  much  more, 
surely,  he  is  not  a  Christian  who  is  one  outwardly.  If  sac- 
rifices and  priesthood  did  not  make  Judaism,  neither  do 
baptism  and  church-going  make  Christianity.  The  new 
covenant  also  has  its  letter  and  its  spirit ;  and,  Avhen  we 
stick  in  the  letter,  we  lose  the  spirit.  Paul  says  of  the  new 
covenant,  "  God  hath  made  us  able  ministers,  not  of  its  let- 
ter, but  of  its  spirit;  for  the  letter  killeth,  but  the  spirit 
giveth  life.'* 

All  the  forms  of  Christianity  are  means,  and  not  ends  ; 
we  need  them  as  helps,  not  as  results.  Going  to  church  does 
not  make  a  Christian.  Being  baptized  does  not  make  a 
Christian.  Professing  Christianity  does  not  make  a  Chris- 
tian. Only  loving  God  and  man  makes  a  Christian.  Yet 
there  are  many  people  and  teachers  who  lay  such  stress  on 
baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper,  and  the  letter  of  the  Bible, 
that  they  really  see  less  of  the  spirit  of  Christianity  than 
Isaiah  or  David  saw.  A  thousand  years  before  Christ  was 
born,  David  saw  more  of  Christianity  than  those  see  who 
hesitate  as  to  whether  an  infant  can  be  saved  who  has  not 
2 


18  THE   LETTKR    AND   THE   SPIRIT. 

been  baptized,  or  whether  God  can  love  a  good  heathen 
urter  he  dies.  Jesus,  thougli  a  Jew,  was  less  particular  in 
keeping  outwardly  the  Jewish  sabbath  than  many  Christians 
are  in  an  outward  keeping  of  what  they  call  the  Christian 
sabbath  ;  which  is  no  sabbath  at  all,  but  the  blessed  day  of 
our  dear  friend,  in  which  the  best  thing  we  can  do  is  to  be 
loving  and  generous,  thankful  and  good-natured,  cheerful  and 
happy. 

Truth  has  its  letter  and  its  spirit.  Dogmatists  and  bigots 
lay  all  stress  on  the  letter.  They  pack  it  np  in  certain 
words  ;  they  string  it  on  articles  ;  they  lock  it  np  in  a  chest 
of  drawers  which  they  call  a  creed  ;  they  worship  it  in  the 
text  of  the  Bible.  They  say,  "  If  you  do  not  believe  it  just 
as  we  express  it,  you  shall,  without  doubt,  be  damned  ever- 
lastingly." But  truth  cannot  be  kept  in  any  forms  :  it  is  a 
conviction  in  the  soul.  You  express  it  so  to-day ;  other- 
wise, to-morrow. 

Every  doctrine  has  its  letter  and  its  spirit.  The  letter  of 
a  doctrine  is  its  logical  meaning,  or  that  which  the  words 
literally  imply.  The  spirit  of  a  doctrine  is  that  which  is 
intended  by  those  who  hold  it ;  the  deep  conviction  in  their 
minds  which  they  attempt  to  express  thus,  of  which  this  is 
the  outward  symbol.  For,  as  all  language  is  imperfect,  no 
verbal  statement  can  ever  adequately  express  the  human 
thought.  The  best  statement  is  only  an  approximation.  A 
doctrine,  therefore,  may  be  false  in  its  letter,  but  true  in  its 
spirit ;  false  in  what  it  says,  true  in  what  it  tries  to  say. 

No  doubt,  there  was  truth  in  this  sense  in  all  the  great 
do(;triues  which  have  been  held  by  large  multitudes  during 
long  periods.  The*  letter  of  the  Trinity  is  false  ;  but  the 
spirit  of  the  Trinity  seems  to  have  been  the  desire  to  unite 
the  different  views  of  the  Deity  held  by  the  Jew,  the  Greek, 
the  philosopher,  and  the  child.  While  the  Jew  had  seen  the 
unity  of  God  and  his  holiness  in  revelation,  the  Greek  had 
seen  his  wisdom  and  power  in  nature,  and  the  philosopher  had 


THE  LETTER  AND  THE  SPIRIT.  19 

found  God  also  in  the  instincts  of  his  soul.  All  these  differ- 
ent convictions  were  felt  to  have  some  substantial  reality, 
and  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  grew  out  of  an  attempt  to 
unite  them  in  a  single  statement. 

The  attempt  has  not  been  successful ;  but  its  spirit  was 
sound,  and,  in  some  form  or  other,  may  yet  be  found  also 
true  in  the  letter. 

But  we  should  do  an  equal  injustice  to  Paganism,  if  we 
regarded  only  its  letter,  and  forgot  its  spirit.  The  spirit  of 
Paganism  is  that  which  the  Apostle  Paul  described  in  his 
noble  speech  at  Athens,  when  he  told  the  Greeks  that  they 
already  worshipped,  though  ignorantly,  the  true  God.  The 
spirit  of  Paganism  is  feeling  after  God  in  nature  ;  trying  to 
fiud  Him  who  is  not  far  from  any  one  of  us  ;  having  vague 
irrepressible  longings  after  an  infinite  truth  and  beauty. 

Christian  missionaries,  who  go  to  convert  the  heathen,  are 
often  moved  by  seeing  the  profound  earnestness  of  their 
devotion.  They  feel  that  there  is  a  substantial  truth  in  all 
these  religious  in  the  midst  of  their  formal  errors.  The  poet 
Schiller  has  well  expressed  this  truth  in  the  play*cf  "  Wal- 
lenstein,"  where  Max  speaks  of  the  belief  of  the  great  duke 
in  astrology  :  — 

"  O,  never  rudely  will  I  blame  his  faith 
In  the  might  of  stars  and  angels.     'Tis  not  merely 
The  human  being's  pride  that  peoples  space 
With  life  and  mystical  predominance  ; 
Since  likewise  for  the  stricken  heart  of  love 
This  visible  nature  and  this  common  world 
Is  all  too  narrow ;  yea,  a  deeper  import 
Lurks  in  the  legend  told^my  infant  years 
Than  lies  upon  that  truth  we  live  to  learn." 

Mr.  Coleridge  was  once  a  Unitarian,  afterwards  a  Trinita- 
rian ;  but  he  did  ten  times  more  for  Liberal  Christianity  after 
he  became  a  Trinitarian  than  he  did  before.  He  taught  the 
Orthodox  Church  one  great  idea,  which  has  penetrated  it 


20  THE   LETTER  AND   THE   SPIRIT. 

through  and  through,  —  that  truth  is  not  a  statement  of 
opinion  ;  that  faith  is  one  thing,  belief  another  ;  and  that  no 
man  is  ever  saved  by  a  doctrine,  but  only  by  an  insight.  So 
that  now  it  has  become  all  but  impossible  for  any  Protestant 
teacher,  however  Orthodox,  to  believe  that  any  one  will  be 
damned  for  disbelieving  a  creed.  As  long  as  truth  was  con- 
founded with  belief,  people  could  think  so  ;  now  they  cannot. 
The  whole  system  of  Orthodoxy  is  saturated  throughout  by 
this  doctrine.  It  is  like  the  ice  on  the  river  in  the  spring. 
It  is  floating  there  still,  a  foot  thick,  and  seems  solid  ice ; 
but  it  is  water-soaked ;  and,  one  morning,  it  will  sink,  and 
be  all  gone.  For  all  men  have  now  come  to  see,  more  or 
less  distinctly,  that  truth  has  its  letter  and  its  spirit ;  and 
that  the  letter  kills,  while  the  spirit  alone  gives  life. 

So  also  with  morality.  It^  too,  has  its  letter  and  spirit. 
There  is  a  logical  morality,  which  says,  "  This  is  right,  and 
that  is  wrong  ;  "  but  back  of  all  that  is  the  spirit,  the  motive, 
the  aim,  which  makes  a  thing  right  or  wrong.  "  Is  it  wrong 
to  lie?"  Certainly,  we  answer.  "Is  it  wrong  to  commit 
sacrilege?"  Surely.  "Is  it  wrong  to  assassinate?"  No 
doubt.  "  But  I,"  says  Jacobi,  "  am  that  atheist,  that  god- 
less person :  yes,  I  am  that  wretch  who  would  lie,  as  the 
dying  Desdemona  lied ;  deceive  as  Pylades,  when  he  pre- 
tended to  be  Orestes,  that  he  might  die  in  his  stead ;  commit 
sacrilege  as  David,  when  he  ate  the  showbread  ;  be  an  assas- 
sin like  Brutus,  and  a  sabbath-breaker  like  the  disciples,  who 
plucked  ears  of  corn  because  they  were  hungry,  and  because 
law  was  made  for  man,  and  not  man  for  the  law." 

The  letter  of  morality  kills  :  the  spirit  of  morality,  which 
is  the  love  of  right,  the  love  of  truth,  an  inward  truthfulness 
of  soul,  a  fidelity  to  one's  own  highest  nature,  an  aspiration 
after  whatever  things  are  pure,  and  lovely,  and  noble,  —  this 
it  is  wliicli  fills  the  soul  through  and  through,  at  once  with 
magnanimity  and  humility,  at  once  with  courage  and  mod- 
esty ;  makes  us  faithful  without  pedantry,  and  holy  without 
cant  and  pretence. 


THE   LETTER   AND   THE   SPIRIT.  21 

This,  then,  we  say,  is  the  chief  difference  between  man 
and  man.  Some  people,  in  whatever  they  do,  follow  dead 
routine  ;  others,  a  living  law :  some  see  only  what  is  cus- 
tomary ;  others  see  always  what  is  needed :  some  are  bound 
fast  to  what  is  usual  and  what  is  proper ;  others  are  made 
free  by  the  sight  of  what  is  beautiful  and  good. 

No  man  is  a  master  in  any  work  till  he  works  according 
to  the  spirit.  A  man  cannot  be  an  able  mechanic  if  he  is  a 
man  of  routine.  The  able  mechanic  is  one  whose  mind  is 
wide  awake,  and  who  is  open  to  the  incoming  spirit  of  dis- 
covery ;  who  is  hoping  to  do  better  than  he  has  done.  So 
he  makes  a  high  art  of  any  work.  Such  men  as  Stephenson 
and  Bramah,  Fulton,  Ericsson,  and  Nasmyth,  were  greater 
poets,  and  lived  a  more  imaginative  life,  than  the  parrot 
poetasters  who  rhyme  like  Tupper  or  Dobell.  The  grimy 
workshop  of  these  men  is  all  transfigured  with  music,  song, 
and  ideal  lyrics. 

Every  occupation  has  those  who  follow  it  after  the  letter 
or  after  the  spirit.  The  first  do  their  best  to  kill  their  call- 
ing, and  destroy  all  the  respect  that  is  felt  for  it  in  the  minds 
of  men  :  the  other  class  elevate  it,  —  give  it  dignity  and 
worth. 

There  is,  for  example,  the  physician  after  the  letter,  who 
follows  blindly  the  traditions  of  his  school,  whatever  it  may 
happen  to  be.  He  degrades  his  profession,  in  the  minds  of 
men,  by  the  way  in  which  he  uses  the  terrible  instruments 
in  his  hands  ;  until  at  last  men  say,  "  Our  chance  of  recovery 
is  better  without  the  doctor  than  with  him."  Thus  the  letter 
of  medicine  has  killed  medicine. 

Then  there  is  the  pedantic  scholar,  who  lives  among  dead 
words  ;  who  studies  languages,  not  for  the  sake  of  the  great 
literatures  to  which  they  are  the  portals,  but  for  their  ov/n 
sake.  Languages,  being  taught  so,  at  last  lose  all  their  in- 
terest for  the  human  mind :  and  so  young  men  study  Latin 
and  Greek  for  six  or  eight  years,  and  end  by  not  being  able 


22  THE   LETTER   AND   THE   SPIRIT. 

to  read  a  Greek  or  Latiu  book.  The  letter  of  scholarsliip 
lias  killed  scholarsliip.  Teachers,  thus  teachiug  after  the 
letter,  invariably  destroy  all  interest  in  the  subject  which 
they  teach.  Meantime,  the  teacher  who  teaches  with  entliu- 
siasnri,  because  he  is  interested  in  the  substance  and  spirit  of 
what  he  teaches,  excites  a  like  enthusiasm  in  the  mind  of 
the  scholar.  Everything  thus  learned  is  remembered ;  and 
the  whole  subject,  thus  vitalized,  is  thoroughly  and  deeply 
known. 

During  the  last  century,  history  was  written  according  to 
the  letter.  Excellent,  painstaking  men  collected  all  the  facts, 
dates,  and  names  belonging  to  a  period,  put  them  together, 
and  called  it  all  "  history."  It  was  only  dead  annals.  Who 
took  any  interest  in  these  histories?  Who  cared  for  them? 
The  letter  of  history  had  killed  it.  Then  came  historians  in 
France  like  Michelet  and  Thierry ;  in  England,  like  Carlyle 
and  Macaulay  ;  in  America,  like  Bancroft  and  Motley.  Then 
the  curtain  was  lifted  from  before  the  Past.  It  came  up  be- 
fore us  with  its  tragedy  and  its  tears.  It  was  as  when  Eli- 
phaz  saw  in  his  vision  the  spectral  form  :  "  In  thoughts  from 
the  visions  of  the  night,  when  deep  sleep  falleth  on  men,  fear 
came  upon  me,  and  trembling.  Then  a  spirit  passed  before 
my  face."  We  saw  men,  like  ourselves,  on  the  stage  where 
these  great  dramas  were  performed.  We  saw  the  wild, 
stormy  promise  of  the  French  Revolution,  and  its  pathetic 
end.  We  saw  the  poor  King  of  France  flying  under  the 
dewy  night  to  Varennes.  From  earlier  centuries  came  for- 
Avard  the  living  forms  of  stern  Keltic  chiefs  and  Druid 
I)riests  ;  of  Norman  sea-kings,  cruel  and  terrible  ;  Cromwell 
and  Hampden,  earnest  Puritan  deliverers  of  English  liberty. 
The  spirit  had  once  more  returned  into  history,  and  it  was 
again  alive. 

We  see  by  these  varied  examples  the  truth  of  the  apostle's 
statement,  that  the  letter  kills.  We  should  hardly  have  ven- 
tured so  bold  a  statement.     We  might  have  said  that  the 


THE   LETTER   AND   THE   SPIRIT.  23 

letter  without  the  spirit  was  inadequate.  We  might  perhaps 
have  gone  further,  and  dechired  it  useless.  But  to  call  it 
positively  pernicious  ;  to  say  that  the  letter  of  religion,  of 
the  Bible,  of  worship,  kills  religion,  the  Bible,  and  worship, 
we  should  scarcely  have  ventured  to  do  that.  It  would  have 
seemed  a  dangerous  statement.  But  an  insight  and  experi- 
ence like  that  of  Paul  enable  one  to  say  what  would  be 
thought  dangerous  by  one  standing  on  a  lower  platform. 
Now  that  he  has  said  it,  we  also  can  see  it.  In  everything, 
the  letter  kills,  and  the  spirit  makes  alive.  The  mere  letter 
of  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New  Testament  kills  piety. 
The  mere  letter  of  morality  kills  goodness.  The  letter  of 
our  daily  work  kills  our  interest  in  life.  Edmund  Burke 
says,  "  There  is  an  unremitted  labor,  when  men  exhaust 
their  attention,  burn  out  their  candles,  and  are  left  in  the 
dark." 

But  when  we  are  open  to  the  spirit,  and  let  that  flow  into 
all  our  work,  thought,  and  life,  then  everything  is  once  more 
vitalized  ;  then  the  Bible  becomes  a  new  book,  full  of  intense 
interest ;  nature  is  new,  being  full  of  God  ;  and  man  becomes 
a  new  creature,  with  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth. 


m. 


PROPHETS  WHO  HAVE  BEEN   SINCE  THE  WORLD 
BEGAN. 

Luke  i.  70  :  *'  PRoniExs  who  have  been  since  the  world  began." 

A  PROPHET  is  not  merely  one  who  foresees,  who 
knows  the  future,  who  beholds  events  as  they  draw 
near ;  he  is  this,  and  more.  He  is  not  merely  one  who 
rebukes  a  nation's  sins.  Prophets  do  that ;  but  that  is  not 
all  they  do.  He  is  not  merely  one  who  teaches  truth.  The 
essential  thing  wiiich  makes  him  a  prophet  lies  deeper  than 
any  of  tliese  partial  definitions  take  us.  A  prophet  is  one 
who  soes  back  of  all  traditions  in  relio;ion  to  the  ori^ijiual 
reality  ;  behind  all  creeds,  to  the  primal  insights  out  of 
which  they  grew  ;  beneath  all  expediency,  to  the  creative 
law  of  justice  and  eternal  right.  This  makes  him  a  prophet ; 
this  helps  him  to  foresee ;  this  charges  him  full  of  noble 
indignation  against  all  falsifiers  of  truth  and  betrayers  of 
justice.  Such  men  are  naturally  and  necessarily  the  teach- 
ers of  their  race.  Tliey  do  not  teach  officially  as  a  profes- 
sion, but  from  the  need  of  utterance.  He  who  sees,  must 
say  what  he  sees.  "  "We  also  believe,  and  therefore  speak." 
The  prophetic  element,  therefore,  is  not  necessarily  any- 
tliing  miraculous  or  exceptional.  Tlie  prophetic  faculty  is 
the  natural,  not  the  unnatural,  condition  of  man.  All  men 
foresee  and  foretell  in  proportion  as  they  have  any  manliness 
of  soul  and  force  of  intellect.  Half  of  the  conversation  of 
every  day  turns  upon  what  is  to  happen  to-morrow.     Farm- 

(24) 


PROPHETS   SINCE  THE   WORLD   BEGAN.  25 

ers  ask  each  other  what  sort  of  weather  it  will  be  the  com- 
ing week.  Merchants  inquire  what  will  be  the  condition  of 
the  market  three  mouths  hence.  Brokers  foretell  the  effect 
of  such  and  such  events  on  the  money-market.  No  man 
lives  who  does  not  constantly  look  forward  to  foresee  and  to 
foretell  what  is  to  come.  People  often  make  mistakes  ;  but 
that  does  not  prevent  them  from  trying  again  ;  for  the  in- 
stinct of  the  soul  compels  them  to  look  forward.  We  may 
say,  therefore,  that  prophecy  is  one  of  the  natural  faculties 
of  the  soul,  just  as  much  as  reason  or  imagination. 

You  think,  perhaps,  that  I  am  confounding  different 
things  —  natural  sagacity,  which  foretells  events  by  knowl- 
edge of  the  laws  which  produce  them  ;  and  spiritual  foresight, 
born  of  inspiration,  which  foretells  the  events  sent  by  God. 
But  is  there  such  a  distinction?  Are  not  all  events  sent  by 
God?  Our  Saviour  blames  the  Jews  because  they  could 
not  foresee  the  spiritual  events  about  to  come,  when  they 
could  foresee  the  weather  to-day  or  to-morrow.  "  He  said 
to  the  people,  When  ye  see  a  cloud  rise  out  of  the  west,  ye 
say.  There  cometh  a  shower ;  and  so  it  is.  And  when  ye 
see  the  south  wind  blow,  ye  say.  There  will  be  heat ;  and  it 
cometh  to  pass.  Ye  hypocrites  !  ye  can  discern  the  face  of 
the  sky  and  of  the  earth  ;  but  how  is  it  that  ye  do  not  dis- 
cern this  time?"  As  though  he  had  said,  "  The  same  saga- 
city which,  applied  to  temporal  things,  enables  you  to  fore- 
see earthly  changes  which  are  to  come,  if  applied  to  spiritual 
things,  would  enable  you  to  foresee  spiritual  events  which 
are  to  come." 

Jesus  called  them  "  hypocrites,"  because  they  professed 
to  be  the  religious  leaders  of  their  nation,  and  yet  had  no 
such  perception  of  coming  religious  events  as  they  had  of 
every-day  affairs.  It  was  their  business  to  foresee  the  com- 
ing of  the  Christ,  and  to  notice  the  signs  of  his  coming ;  and 
they  did  not  do  it.  This  shows  that  they  did  not  really  care 
about  it  as  they  professed  to  care.     Every  one  can  foresee 


26  PROPHETS   WHO   HAVE  BEEN 

in  liis  own  department  of  thought  in  which  he  is  really 
interested.  Napoleon  could  foresee  just  what  his  enemy 
would  do,  because  he  was  interested  in  the  game  of  war. 
Before  he  left  Paris  for  his  last  campaign,  which  ended  at 
Waterloo,  he  said,  "Wellington  lies  with  eighty  thousand 
men  in  front  of  Brussels.  Blucher  lies  with  a  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand  Prussians  on  his  left.  These  two  armies 
are  intended  by  their  commanders  to  support  each  other, 
and  their  two  wings  to  come  together ;  but  tiiey  probably  do 
not.  Probably  they  have  left  a  vacant  space  of  four  or  five 
miles  between  them.  I  will  throw^  my  army  into  that  space, 
and  strike  them  separately,  first  one,  then  the  other,  before 
they  can  combine."  He  found  it  exactly  so.  And  half  of 
his  success  in  war  lay  in  this  power  of  military  prophecy,  by 
which  he  could  throw  himself,  in  imagination,  into  the  posi- 
tion of  his  enemies,  and  so  foretell  exactly  what  they  would 
do.  Every  man  is  thus  a  prophet  in  the  things  he  cares  for. 
Those  who  care  most  of  all  for  religious  truth,  for  the  spir- 
itual progress  of  mankind,  for  the  advance  of  a  great  moral 
cause,  can  foresee '  in  that  direction,  and  are  prophets  to 
other  men.  Jesus  therefore  blamed  the  Pharisees,  and 
justly,  for  not  being  prophets  in  religion,  when  they  could 
prophesy  so  easily  in  regard  to  common  things. 

Tliereforc  the  Jewish  prophets  were  not  the  first  nor  the 
last  propjjcts  in  religion  :  there  were  prophets  before  them, 
so  our  text  declares  —  ''prophets  who  have  been  since  the 
world  began."  Not  only  all  men,  as  we  have  said,  have 
something  of  the  prophetic  element  in  them,  but  God  has 
other  prophets,  miglity  forelookers  and  foretellers,  who  have 
been  sinc-e  the  world  began. 

For  example  :  Nature  is  ''  a  prophet  who  has  been  since 
the  world  began."  The  facts  of  nature  look  forward  to  a 
result,  as  well  as  backward  to  a  cause.  Nature  contains 
both  the  law  and  the  prophets  —  universal  divine  laAvs,  yet 
these  laws  teiuliiig  always  to  sure  providential  ends. 


SINCE  THE   WORLD   BEGAN.  27 

I  go  in  the  spring  to  a  seed-store,  and  I  buy  packages  of 
flower-seeds.  They  come  from  Germany.  I  open  a  pack- 
age, and  I  find  twelve  little  papers  containing  twelve  varie- 
ties of  some  flower  —  asters,  for  example.  There  are  a 
dozen  little  seeds  in  each  paper.  They  look  alike  ;  but  I 
know,  if  I  plant  them  apart,  when  they  come  up,  each  seed 
"will  produce  its  own  flower,  with  its  own  color  —  white,  or 
purple,  or  scarlet,  as  the  case  may  be.  Each  little  seed  is  a 
prophet,  foretelling  what  is  to  come  out  of  it.  Each  seed, 
bearing  fruit  after  its  kind,  has,  since  the  world  began, 
been  a  prophecy  and  promise  to  man,  that,  if  the  sowiuo" 
does  not  fail  in  the  spring,  the  harvest  shall  come  in  the 
autumn. 

Look  at  the  human  eye.  Consider  its  wonderful  forma- 
tion, its  lenses  adapted  to  refract  light  and  bring  it  to  a  focus 
on  the  retina,  yet  without  dispersing  the  ray.  In  the  first 
human  eye  was  a  prophecy  of  all  that  the  eye  was  to  do,  — 
a  prediction  and  promise  of  sunlight,  moonlight,  twilight, — 
of  all  the  forms  of  beauty  and  wonder  which  cover  the  earth. 
AVhen  God  made  the  eye,  he  foretold  light ;  he  predicted 
sun,  moon,  stars;  he  announced  the  coming  of  beauty, 
grace,  symmetry  —  every  glory  of  sunrise,  every  magnifi- 
cence of  evening.  And  when  God  made  the  human  hand, 
he  foretold  in  its  construction  all  it  was  to  do,  all  the  human 
arts  which  were  to  come  from  its  use. 

All  nature  is  strewn  with  prophecies,  had  we  but  intelli- 
gence to  read  them.  The  very  form  of  the  continents,  with 
their  seas,  mountains,  plains,  foretells  the  course  of  human 
atiTairs.  Geography  foretells  history.  The  great  level 
plains  of  Central  Asia  foretold  tlie  nomad  tribes  of  herds- 
men and  shepherds  who  were  to  wander  over  them.  The 
great  river-valley  of  the  Nile  foretold  the  civilization  of 
Egypt.  The  indented  coast  of  Greece  foretold  Ileilenic 
culture.  All  nature  looks  forward  to  man,  and  foretells  his 
coming  and  his  destiny. 


28  PROPHETS   WHO    HAVE   BEEN 

So  nature  around  us,  and  reason  within  us,  have  been 
prophets  since  the  world  began.  Reason,  allied  to  nature, 
foresees  evermore.  Great  inventors  and  great  discoverers 
have  in  them  tliis  element  especially,  because  their  reason 
is  fed  by  the  knowledge  of  nature.  In  the  Book  of  Samuel, 
we  read  that  he  who  was  afterwards  called  a  prophet,  or 
foreteller,  was  originally  called  a  seer  —  one  who  sees. 
Sight  leads  to  foresight.  He  who  sees  well  can  easily  fore- 
see. Every  great  invention  and  discovery  is  a  prophecy. 
Columbus  foresaw  America  long  before  he  set  sail  for  it. 
Fulton  foresaw  his  steamboat,  and  beheld  it  in  vision  sailing 
up  the  Hudson,  against  wind  and  tide,  before  the  keel  was 
laid.  All  great  moral  reformers  are  supported  by  the  spirit 
of  prophecy  in  their  breasts.  They  rest  secure  on  the  eter- 
nal laws  of  God's  government,  and  know  certainly  that, 
because  God  reigns,  the  right  must  triumph.  What  would 
Luther  have  done,  standing  alone  against  all  Christendom, 
attacking  a  church  which  had  governed  Europe  for  a  thou- 
sand years  ;  which  had  its  thousands  of  priests  and  bishops 
in  all  lands,  before  which  kings  and  emperors  trembled ; 
which  held  in  its  hand  the  knowledge,  the  wealth,  the  power 
of  Europe,  —  how  could  he,  a  poor,  lowly  monk,  venture  on 
the  audacity  of  attacking  such  an  awful  power,  had  not  God 
in  his  heart  given  him  to  see  that  the  eternal  laws  of  truth 
and  justice  were  on  his  side,  and  that,  therefore,  he  must  at 
last  be  conqueror ;  whispering  to  his  heart  that  his  friends 

"Were  exaltations,  agonies, 
And  love,  and  man's  unconquerable  mind"? 

All  great  souls  who  have  done  any  noble  work  in  the 
world  have  been  supported  by  this  divine  power  of  prophecy 
within  them.  They  have  looked  forward  in  hope,  assured 
hope,  to  a  future  success,  of  which  the  present  gave  no 
signs.  The  true  prophets  of  God  have  not  been  men  of 
abstract  thought  or  abstract  piety  ;  but  they  have  been  the 


SINCE   THE   WORLD  BEGAN.  29 

real  workers,  the  real  moral  and  religious  leaders  and 
chiefs,  who  have  lived  by  faith  in  a  better  future  while 
doing  the  hard  work  of  to-day. 

It  is  quite  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  Jewish  prophets 
were  merely  or  essentially  foretellers  of  the  future,  or  writers 
of  books  :  they  were  the  great  reformers  of  their  time  — 
men  who  lived  in  the  midst  of  strife.  The  first,  and  perhaps 
grandest,  of  them  all,  after  Moses,  Samuel,  was  at  once  an 
heroic  ruler  and  general,  and  a  wise  statesman.  He  was  the 
first  who  brought  order  out  of  anarchy.  Till  this  time,  the 
whole  land  Avas  torn  with  petty  guerrilla  warfare.  Some 
such  state  of  things  prevailed  as  in  Mexico  now.  A  succes- 
sion of  leaders  had  arisen  ;  but  they  brought  no  order  out 
of  chaos.  Tlie  reason  was,  that  they  were  mere  fighters  — 
captains,  not  prophets.  "  The  word  of  the  Lord,"  it  is  said, 
"  was  precious  in  these  days  :  there  was  no  open  vision." 
The  men  of  action  were  there,  but  not  the  men  of  deep 
religious  thought,  not  the  men  of  open  vision.  Then  Sam- 
uel arose  —  a  great  statesman,  a  great  commander,  a  great 
prophet,  all  in  one ;  an  awful,  majestic  figure,  who  has 
come  down  to  us  through  all  these  intervening  centuries, 
surrounded  with  a  strange  halo  of  mystery  and  grandeur. 
He  first  united  the  elements  of  action,  moral  conviction,  and 
spiritual  insight.  He  was  the  first  of  the  long  line  of  He- 
brew prophets  ;  all  of  whom,  like  him,  were  more  men  of 
action  than  of  devotion.  They  fought  against  the  evils  of 
their  hour — Isaiah,  Jeremiah,  Ezekiel,  and  greatest  of  them 
all,  Elijah  ;  they  rebuked  kings  and  people,  and  stood  up  for 
justice  and  humanity  in  the  midst  of  an  evil  generation. 
What  gave  them  this  power?  'Not  the  belief  of  a  creed,  not 
any  traditional  religion.  No  ;  but  the  fresh  and  living  sight 
of  justice  and  truth  with  which  God  inspired  their  hearts. 
They  saw  the  right :  they  did  not  merely  believe  in  it. 
They  saw  God :  they  did  not  merely  reason  him  out  by  a 
chain  of  argument.     They  were  seers,  therefore  they  could 


30  PROPHETS   WHO   HAVE   BEEN 

be  doers ;  for  no  man  can  do  any  noble  thing  but  the  man 
who  sees  something  nobler  —  even  immortal  and  infinite 
truth. 

This  leads  me  to  another  point.  The  lowest  kind  of 
prophecy  is  sagacity,  based  on  observation  of  outward  laws. 
It  is  thus  that 

''Old  experience  doth  attain 
To  something  of  prophetic  strain." 

But  tliis  is  only  the  lower  kind  of  prophecy.  The  higher 
and  better  prophecy  comes  not  from  the  region  of  the  under- 
standing, but  from  a  deeper  depth.  The  reason  of  man, 
indeed,  as  we  have  seen,  has  been  a  prophet  since  the  world 
began.  But  God  has  had  other,  nobler,  surer  prophets  of 
the  future  than  the  mere  intellect.  The  conscience  sees  fur- 
ther tluiu  the  understanding ;  the  heart  is  wiser  than  the 
head.  Tliese,  also,  have  been  God's  prophets  since  the 
world  began. 

Deep  in  the  human  breast,  God  has  placed  tliis  solemn 
prophet,  whom  we  name  Conscience.  He  looks  evermore 
at  the  eternal  law  of  justice,  deeper  than  any  outward 
law  :  — 

"  Wliich  doth  preserve  the  stars  from  wrong, 
And  (by  which)  the  most  ancient  heavens  are  fresh  and  strong." 

No  man  but  liears  its  voice.  It  speaks  to  us  of  right  that 
we  ought  to  do,  of  wrong  that  we  ought  to  resist.  It  fore- 
tells a  judgment  to  come.  It  speaks  of  a  sure  retribution 
for  all  evil,  some  time  or  other,  somewhere  or  other.  It  is 
the  sword  of  Damocles,  hanging  over  the  head  of  Louis 
Napoleon  in  the  Tuileries.  It  scared  Herod  when  he 
thought  of  John  the  Bai)tist.  It  makes  the  weakest  man 
strong  who  is  acting  from  conscience.  It  frightened  the 
slaveholders,  who  held  the  whole  power  of  the  nation  in 
their  hands,  —  Tresidents,  Congress,  the  Democratic  party  at 


SINCE  THE   WORLD   BEGAN.  31 

the  North,  the  whole  bench  of  Judges,  —  and  made  them 
wish  to  hurry  out  of  the  Union,  so  as  to  escape  the  con- 
science of  New  England ;  for  they  knew  that  this  New 
England  conscience  was  stronger  than  they  all.  In  it  they 
foresaw 

"  The  vanward  cloud  of  evil  days, 
With  all  their  stored  thunder,  laboring  up." 

For  conscience  always  speaks  as  one  having  authority.  By 
the  voice  of  Joan  of  Arc,  from  her  burning  scaffold,  calling 
on  Jesus,  it  frightened  the  soldiers  into  hysterics.  It  com- 
pelled Governor  Wise,  looking  on  John  Brown,  to  say  that  he 
v.-as  the  bravest  and  most  honest  man  he  ever  knew.  From 
the  prison  of  Jeremiah,  its  voice  reached  the  ear  of  the  King 
of  Israel,  and  struck  terror  into  his  heart.  From  the  cross 
of  Christ,  it  seemed  to  darken  the  sky,  and  rend  the  graves, 
and  raise  the  dead.  It  may  be  that  truth  is  forever  on  the 
scaffold,  and  wrong  forever  on  the  throne  ;  but  it  is  also  true 
that  truth  on  the  scaffold  not  only  sways  the  future,  but 
awes  and  terrifies  the  seemingly  triumphant  present.  Al- 
most before  the  ashes  of  Savonarola  had  been  swept  from 
the  great  square  in  Florence,  Raffaelle  was  painting  his 
serious  face  among  the  doctors  of  the  Church  in  the  frescoes 
of  the  Vatican.* 


*"  At  Rome,  Raffaelle  was  the  first  who  undertook  his  apotlieosis 
by  placing  him  among  the  most  illustrious  doctors  of  the  Church  in 
the  dispute  on  the  Holy  Sacrament.  Ten  years  had  then  elapsed 
since  the  death  of  Savonarola.  Pope  Julius  II.,  who  was  worthy  of 
appreciating  such  a  genius,-  had  succeeded  Alexander  Borgia  on  tl'O 
pontifical  throne;  and  thus  were  terminated  the  scandals  with  wliich 
this  infamous  family  had  appalled  Italy.  Tlie  severe  and  despotic 
character  of  this  pontiff  will  not  allow  us  to  suppose  that  Raflaelle 
would  have  ventured  to  place  the  portrait  of  Savonarola  in  one  of  the 
Stunze  of  the  Vatican,  unless  the  idea  had  been  suggested  to  him  l>y 
Julius  himself,  who,  no  doubt,  preferred  this  kind  of  reparation,  as 
affording  the  best  guaranty  for  present  publicity  and  future  per- 
petuity." —  Rio  :  Poetry  of  Christian  Art. 


32  PROPHETS   WHO    HAVE   BEEN 

The  human  heart,  also,  has  been  one  of  God's  prophets 
since  the  world  began. 

The  heart,  I  just  now  said,  has  a  deeper  wisdom  than  the 
head.  Its  faith,  its  hope,  and  its  love  predict  and  assure  a 
better  future  tliau  the  mere  intellect  can  foresee.  Every- 
thing that  is  greatly  good  in  the  world  has  been  accom- 
plished by  tlie  power  of  faith,  not  resting  on  outward  evi- 
dence, but  on  the  inward  evidence  of  the  heart.  How  has 
Cljristianity  triumphed?  Not  by  its  miracles.  Our  books 
teach  us  to  believe  in  Christ  because  of  his  miracles ;  but 
who  really  believes  in  Christ  because  of  his  miracles?  We 
believe  in  him  because  we  love  him.  Love  leads  to  knowl- 
edge. He  "  draws  all  men  unto  him."  "  His  sheep  hear 
his  voice,  and  follow  him.'*  The  head  believes  in  God  by 
means  of  argument :  the  heart  sees  him.  ''  Blessed  are  the 
pure  in  heart ;  for  they  shall  see  God."  The  intellect  rea- 
sons about  immortality :  the  heart  knows  it.  The  intellect 
proves  Christianity  to  be  true.  The  heart  of  man,  in  all 
ages,  feels  the  truth  of  that  generous  faith  which  brings  God 
near  to  us  as  a  Father ;  which  reveals  man  as  a  brother ; 
which  restrains  the  tyrant,  and  breaks  the  fetters  of  the 
slave  ;  which  supports  the  head  of  the  feeble  and  sick,  and 
opens  heaven  to  the  dying  eye.  • 

Is  it  all  an  illusion  —  this  grand  hope,  born  out  of  love? 
Let  us  look  at  it.  A  desires  a  partner  in  business,  and  finds 
B.  He  exercises  his  best  judgment  in  the  selection  ;  he 
takes  advice,  and  asks  references,  and  inquires  into  his  ante- 
cedents :  yet  B  often  turns  out,  after  all,  not  the  man  he 
thought  him  to  be.  But  as  long  as  two  friends  love  each 
other,  their  love  is  a  sure  foundation  for  mutual  trust.  Love 
does  not  deceive.  Love,  whicli  beareth  all  things,  believetli 
all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  endureth  all  things,  is  the  one 
thing  which  never  failetJi.  Nothing  is  so  solid  as  love.  It 
sometimes  seems  to  be  the  only  substantial  thing  there  is  in 
the  universe.     Perhaps  it  is  so ;  for  God  is  love,  and  God 


SINCE  THE   WORLD   BEGAN.  33 

alone  has  real  self-existing  being.     We  live  from  him,  as  we 
receive  his  love  into  our  souls. 

Therefore  is  love  also  a  true  prophet.  It  foresees  and 
foretells  a  better  future.  It  looks  through  the  darkness  of 
the  present,  —  through  pain,  disappointment,  trial,  sorrow, 
bereavement,  loneliness,  —  and  sees  all  things  working  to- 
gether for  good.  The  true  optimism  comes  to  us  when  we 
love.  When  we  forget  ourselves,  and  love  others  ;  when  we 
forget  our  selfishness,  and  share  in  God's  interest  in  man- 
kind ;  when  we  throw  ourselves  into  life,  and  follow  Christ 
in  his  trust  in  God,  his  hope  for  man,  —  then  the  heavens 
again  smile.  Then  the  day  dawns  peacefully,  and  the  night 
closes  serenely.  Then  we  look  through  all  anxiety,  and  see 
good  beyond.  Then,  when  we  lay  our  beloved  in  the  damp 
grave,  we  have  a  hope  full  of  immortality  in  our  hearts. 
Mortality  is  swallowed  up  of  life.  Our  faith  in  God  is  faith 
in  good.  Let  the  heatlien  rage,  let  the  rebels  succeed,  let 
tyranny  seem  to  triumph,  let  our  hearts  be  wrung  with  bit- 
terest disappointment  and  sorrow,  we  have  within  us  a  sure 
word  of  prophecy,  to  which  we  can  continually  resort  till  the 
day  dawn  and  the  day-star  arise  in  our  hearts. 

Such  are  some  of  the  words  which  God  speaks  to  the 
human  race  by  the  mouth  of  his  holy  prophets  who  have 
been  since  the  world  began.  Not  in  Judaea  alone,  therefore, 
not  in  Palestine  alone,  are  God's  prophets  found,  but  in  all 
lands,  and  in  all  times,  where  the  reason,  the  conscience, 
and  the  heart  of  man  exist.  These  are  always  inspired  to 
prophesy.  The  inspiration  may  be  of  a  higher  or  a  lower 
order  ;  from  that  of  Balaam,  the  son  of  Beor,  to  that  of 
Jesus  of  Nazareth.  But  differing  in  degree,  it  is  one  in 
nature  :  it  is  always  the  inspiration  which  flows  from  God 
into  the  soul  which  opens  itself  to  him. 
3 


IV. 

STEPS    OF    BELIEF. 
John  iv.  42:  "Now  we  believe,  not   because  of   tut   saying; 

FOR   WE    have    heard    HIM    OURSELVES,    AND    KNOW   THAT    THIS    IS 
INDEED    THE    ChRIST,    THE    SaVIOUR    OF   THE    WORLD." 

THE  woman  went  out  of  tlie  city  that  morning  one  of  the 
most  forlorn  creatures  of  earth.  She  was  despised  by 
her  neighbors,  and  she  knew  that  they  had  a  right  to  despise 
her.  She  was  living  with  a  man  who  was  not  her  husband : 
she  had  been  false  to  others,  or  had  been  abandoned  by 
them.  Affection,  pure  affection,  was  dead  in  her  heart.  It 
was  ulcerated  by  sin,  remorse,  and  shame.  She  was  bitter 
towards  men,  defiant  towards  God.  She  believed  that  men 
had  been  unjust  to  her;  that  God  had  not  given  her  a  fair 
chance. 

So  she  went  out  that  morning  from  the  ancient  city  of  her 
fathers,  situated  in  the  beautiful  and  sequestered  glen  at  the 
base  of  Gerizim.  Above  her  head  rose  the  great  cliffs, 
whose  gray  rocks  were  half  hidden  in  the  masses  of  foliage, 
and  whose  purple  shadows  rested  on  the  valley  through  which 
she  passed.  The  blessings  of  Gerizim  had  passed  her  by : 
the  curses  of  Ebal  had  fallen  on  her  forlorn  head.  So  she 
followed  the  foot-path,  her  water-urn  on  her  head,  till  she 
saw  before  her  the  old  stones  surrounding  the  well  of  Jacob. 
On  one  of  them  a  man  was  sitting  ;  and  she  knew  him,  by 
his  dress,  to  be  a  Jew. 

One   would  think   that  two  nations  who  differed  from  all 


STEPS    OF  BELIEF.  35 

the  world,  and  were  despised  by  all  the  world,  would  stand 
by  each  other.  One  would  think  that  races  having  the  same 
blood,  speaking  almost  the  same  language,  having  nearly  the 
same  sacred  books,  both  followers  of  Moses,  both  worship- 
ping the  same  God,  would  have  some  sympathy  for  each 
other.  But  such  is  not  human  nature.  We  can  pardon 
those  who  differ  widely  from  us, —  not  those  who  almost 
agree  with  us.  ''  Since  they  almost  agree,  why  not  quite?  " 
we  say.  The  Catholic  king  could  not  pardon  the  man  whom 
he  thought  a  Jansenist ;  but  when  he  found  he  was  not  that, 
but  simply  an  atheist,  not  believing  in  any  God  at  all,  he 
gave  him  an  office. 

Besides,  the  men  or  the  race  who  are  despised  like  to  find 
something  lower  than  themselves  to  despise  in  turn.  The 
scorn  of  mankind  fell  on  the  Jew.  He  turned  against  the 
Samaritan  with  a  still  greater  contempt.  Juvenal,  the 
Roman  poet,  tells  us,  in  his  sharp,  stinging  verse,  what 
people  in  his  time  thought  of  Jews.  "  He  is  the  son  of  a 
Jew,"  says  he  :  ^'  so  the  poor  fellow  has  been  taught  to  wor- 
ship clouds,  and  to  consider  it  as  bad  to  eat  pork  as  to  eat  a 
man.  He  obeys  what  Moses  has  written  in  his  mystical 
book,  and  makes  the  seventh  day  one  of  pure  laziness." 
And  so  a  wiser  man  than  Juvenal,  Tacitus,  says  that  the 
Jews  '^  nourish  a  sullen  and  inveterate  hatred  against  man- 
kind ;  their  ceremonies  are  gloomy  rites,  full  of  absurd 
enthusiasm,  —  rueful,  mean,  and  sordid." 

The  Jews  were  thus  thought  by  the  Romans  to  be  the 
lowest  of  mankind  :  they  thought  the  Samaritans  infinitely 
lower  than  themselves.  The  Samaritans  despised  and 
scorned  the  woman  who  went' on  that  eventful  morning,  her 
heart  full  of  rage  and  despair,  to  the  sacred  ancient  well. 
There  she  saw  a  Jew,  She  went  to  the  open  mouth  ;  did 
not  look  at  him  as  she  lowered  her  urn  into  the  deep  well, 
and  drew  it  up,  ready  to  meet  his  contempt  with  cold  indif- 
ference ;  when  he  quietly  asked  her  for  water :  "  Give  me 
to  drink." 


36  STEPS   OP  BELIEF. 

Tiien  she  turned,  and  looked  at  him.  We  know  "vvhat  slie 
saw,  —  not  the  face  whicli  painters  have  made  so  familiar  to 
us,  the  ideal  of  art ;  not  a  face  all  gentleness  and  weak 
jjumility.  No :  Jesus  never  looked  so.  There  beamed 
upon  her  from  his  eyes  a  light  penetrating  to  the  depth  of 
her  mind,  —  a  light  of  calm  insight,  of  generous  good-will, 
of  manly  strength  ;  a  look  which  contained  in  itself  the 
promise  of  comfort,  guidance,  support,   wherever  it  fell. 

1  sliall  not  go  through  this  strange,  magnetic,  electric, 
soul-creating,  and  wonderful  conversation  with  any  para- 
pliiase  of  mine.  The  woman  went  from  her  home  that 
morning  in  despair:  she  went  back  full  of  new  hopes. 
She  had  seen  with  her  own  eyes  him,  the  long-expected, 
long-predicted  one.  He  had  read  her  inmost  thought ;  he 
had  touched  her  most  secret  experience  ;  he  had  filled  her 
heart  with  a  faith  in  God  and  herself.  "  The  man  who  has 
told  me  all  things  that  ever  I  did  —  is  not  he  the  Christ?  " 

He  who  shows  to  us  all  we  ever  did,  he  who  reveals  to  us 
our  own  heart,  —  he  comes  always  in  the  name  of  Christ. 
Unless  Jesus  comes  to  us  so,  he  has  not  really  come  to  us  at 
all.  Until  he  shows  us  what  we  have  done,  shows  us  what 
our  life  really  is,  what  we  are  before  God  and  before  the 
eternal  laws  of  right  and  truth,  we  do  not  see  him  as  the 
Christ,  as  our  Master  and  King.  We  see  him,  perhaps,  as 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  —  a  good  man;  a  wonderful  teacher, 
considering  his  circumstances  and  opportunities  ;  but  nothing 
more  :  not  as  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  the  Saviour  of  the 
world. 

It  is  only  love  and  insight  which  show  us  all  we  have  ever 
done.  Cold  sagacity  misjudges  us:  mere  sympathy,  feeble 
good-nature,  soothes,  but  does  not  essentially  help  us.  But 
love  illuminated  by  truth,  truth  warmed  through  and  through 
by  love,  —  these  perform  for  us  the  most  blessed  thing  that 
one  human  being  can  do  lor  another.  They  show  us  to  our- 
selves :  they  show  us  what  we  really  are,  what  we  have 
been,  may  be,  can  be,  shall  be. 


STEPS  OF   BELIEF.  37 

So  the  words  of  Jesus  found  the  poor  soul  in  her  despair, 
and,  not  excusing  her  past  folly  and  sin,  showed  her  the 
noblest  truth  and  good,  —  the  living  water  of  God,  the  pure 
worship  of  the  Father,  transcending  all  forms  and  ceremo- 
nies, uniting  all  sects,  breaking  down  all  partition  walls  ; 
lifting  earth  to  heaven,  and  bringing  down  heaven  to  earth. 
We  hear  no  more  of  her :  she  passes  out  of  the  history, 
never  to  return.  But  to-day  and  forever  the  wonderful  and 
sublime  words  which  Jesus  spoke  to  her,  the  highest  words 
ever  uttered  by  man,  the  prophecy  of  a  great  future,  are  a 
part,  and  forever  a  part,  of  the  story  of  this  poor  woman. 

I  wish  to  indicate  here,  from  the  words  of  the  text,  the 
jive  steps  of  belief  through  which  we  pass  in  our  human  ex- 
perience. The  men  of  Samaria  begau  by  believing  in  Jesus 
in  consequence  of  what  the  woman  told  them  :  they  ended  by 
believing  in  him  in  consequence  of  what  they  themselves  had 
seen.  "  Now  we  believe,  not  because  of  thy  words  ;  for  we 
have  heard  him  ourselves,  and  believe  that  this  is  the  Christ, 
the  Saviour  of  the  world." 

All  our  belief  begins  with  the  testimony  of  others.  We 
first  believe  on  testimony.  God  has  made  us  to  rely  on  the 
truthfulness  of  others.  The  little  child  believes  everything 
which  is  said  to  him,  and  so  learns  fast ;  because  ninety- 
nine  tilings  of  a  hundred  said  to  him  are  true.  So 
nations  and  races  take  their  belief  from  their  ancestors. 
The  man  born  in  China  believes  in  Confucius  :  if  you  had 
been  born  there,  you  would  have  believed  in  him.  Every 
one  born  a  Turk  believes  in  Mohammed.  Had  you  been 
born  in  Italy,  you  had  been  a  Roman  Catholic,  to  begin 
with.  The  vast  majority  of  Trinitarians,  Unitarians,  Epis- 
copalians, Methodists,  Quakers,  are  so  because  they  were 
born  so.  Their  parents  were  so  before  them.  This  is  a 
good  thing.  We  begin  with  a  traditional  belief,  which  we 
accept  without  a  doubt,  and  in  which  is  always  contained  a 
•n-eat  deal  more  truth  than  error.     So  we  all  learn  some- 


38  STEPS   OF   BELIEF. 

thin;^.  God  has  graciously  shielded  little  children  from  the 
wretchedness  of  doubt.  But  though  cliildhood  is  good  for 
children,  it  is  not  good  for  men.  "We  must  pass  from  tradi- 
tioiiul  belief  to  something  beyond  it. 

Now,  the  fault  with  many  sects  and  churches  is,  that  they 
try  to  make  this  traditional  belief  a  permanent  end.  They 
try  to  fasten  it,  and  rivet  it,  and  to  make  any  progress  out 
of  it  impossible.  The  Roman  Catholics  do  this  openly  and 
on  principle.  They  make  an  idol  of  their  traditions,  and 
refuse  to  let  themselves  hear  the  other  side  of  any  question  ; 
but,  in  doing  this,  they  cease  to  believe  in  testimony,  and 
believe  with  their  will.  This,  then,  is  another  way  of  be- 
lieving. The  first  method  of  belief  is  belief  from  testimony  ; 
the  second,  belief  from  will. 

But,  to  a  certain  extent,  God  has  made  us  to  believe  with 
our  will ;  and,  to  a  certain  extent,  it  is  right  to  do  so.  That 
is,  when  we  have  seen  a  thing  to  be  right,  and  true,  and 
good,  we  ought  to  cling  to  it.  That  truth  which,  in  our 
calm  and  sober  hours,  we  have  accepted,  we  ought  not  to  let 
go,  because,  in  hours  of  trial  and  darkness,  we  cannot  see  it. 
Cling  to  it  still,  and  you  will  see  it  again  by  and  by.  There 
is  such  a  thing  as  loyalty  to  truth,  which  is  noble.  It  is 
good  to  stand  by  the  flag  in  the  storm  of  battle,  and  when 
all  around  seems  defeat  and  disaster.  It  is  good  to  trust  in 
Ciod,  in  goodness,  in  eternal  right,  in  the  triumph  of  truth 
over  evil,  when  we  do  not  sec  how,  or  understand  why.  So, 
having  believed  from  testimony,  we  may  go  on,  and  all  per- 
sons do  go  on,  and  believe  from  will.  All  persons  do  and 
ought  to  cling  for  a  while  to  their  traditional  belief,  to  the 
religion  of  their  fathers,  to  the  convictions  of  their  people 
and  land,  and  not  be  in  any  hurry  to  give  them  up. 

Still  we  cannot  stay  forever  in  this  belief  from  will. 
Alter  a  while,  the  intellect  claims  its  rights.  We  have  to 
think  about  our  belief,  and  examine  it;  and  then  comes  in 
the  belief  from  reason,  which  is  the  third  step. 


STEPS   OF   BELIEF.  89 

Christianity  is,  no  doubt,  a  reasonable  religion.  It 
encourages  inquiry.  It  is  not  afraid  of  any  amount  of  in- 
vestigation. There  is  no  sort  of  harm,  nor  any  danger,  in 
the  freest  exercise  of  thought.  To  cry  out  against  heresies, 
and  to  persecute  heretics,  is  itself  unbelief:  it  is  being  afraid 
that  the  truth  cannot  stand.  Think  as  much  as  yon  will,  in- 
quire as  freely  as  you  choose  ;  there  is  no  sort  of  objection  to 
this.  It  is  our  duty  to  examine  and  criticise  and  reflect ;  for 
how  otherwise  can  truth  advance?  The  church  and  world 
can  never  be  one  in  faith  except  by  free  thought.  By  keeping 
where  we  are,  we  keep  apart:  by  going  forward,  we  may 
come  together.  So  thrft  it  is  right  to  believe  from  reason, 
and  to  believe  with  a  clear  and  active  understanding.  This 
is  the  third  stage  of  belief. 

But  these  beliefs  need  to  be  all  merged  into  another  and 
higher  belief;  that  is,  the  belief  from  experience.  We 
must  say  to  Tradition,  "  Now  we  believe  ;  not  because  of 
thy  words  ;  but  we  have  seen  him  ourselves,  and  know  that 
this  is  indeed  the  Christ,  the  Saviour  of  the  world."  Knowl- 
edge only  comes  through  experience.  .  Belief  passes  into 
knowledge  when  we  live  it.  To  live  the  truth  we  believe, 
is,  therefore,  the  only  way  to  be  certain  of  it.  It  is 
always  so. 

The  certainty  we  have  of  our  own  existence,  and  of  the 
reality  of  the  outward  world,  came  by  experience.  It  is  so 
long  ago,  that  we  have  forgotten  the  process.  But  the 
infant,  gazing  with  blind  wonder  on  the  world,  reaching  out 
its  feeble  hands  to  touch  the  sky,  knows  nothing  certainly. 
His  own  being,  and  that  of  the  world  around,  are  confounded 
in  one.  But  God  puts  into  his  heart  an  instinctive  and  irre- 
sistible activity  ;  and,  in  his  incessant  movements  and  play, 
—  handling  everything,  touching  everything,  examining  all 
things,  —  he  is  coming  to  a  clear  knowledge  of  the  world 
about  him.  It  is  activity,  born  of  desire,  which  makes  us 
know  everything.  Knowledge  is  thus  born  of  love,  through 
experience. 


40  STEPS   OF   BELIEF. 

I  know  those  whom  I  love,  and  I  know  no  one  else. 
Tliose  wlio  love  me,  and  no  others,  know  me.  Sharp,  cold, 
criticising  intellect  knows  nothing  as  it  ought  to  know  it. 
Its  knowledge  is  empty  ;  it  rings  hollow  ;  it  is  as  sounding 
brass  and  tinkling  cymbal. 

You  cannot  know  anything  of  nature  and  the  world 
around  you  except  by  loving  it.  The  naturalist  is  he  who 
takes  a  joy  in  nature  ;  who  is  happy  in  roving,  day  by  day, 
through  the  summer  woods,  or  by  the  sounding  sea ;  who  is 
not  studying  in  order  to  become  a  great  man,  but  because 
Nature  herself  is  beautiful  and  dear  to  him.  She  haunts 
him,  she  attracts  him,  she  fascinates  him :  he  can  never 
leave  her.  So,  at  last,  every  feature  of  her  lovely  ftice 
grows  familiar,  and  he  is  full  of  knowledge,  and  always 
running  over  with  it ;  and  you  cannot  speak  to  him  in  the 
street  but  he  will  tell  you  something  about  Nature  you  did 
not  know  before. 

And  so  we  know  men  when  we  love  them.  Jesus  knew 
the  Samaritan  woman  because  he  loved  her.  He  saw  in  her, 
beneath  all  her  sin  and  shame,  a  heart  still  capable  of  true 
goodness,  of  pure  worship,  and  sincere  adoration.  His 
sympathy  brought  him  close  to  her  soul ;  and  so  he  knew 
her  as  no  one  else  did. 

It  is  not  enough  to  know  the  outward  facts  of  a  man's 
life  in  order  to  know  him.  His  actions  are  the  smallest  part 
of  him.  Beneath  all  his  acts  is  the  mau  himself,  with  his 
hope,  his  aim,  his  purpose,  his  conviction,  his  longing,  his 
sin  and  remorse,  his  faith  and  struggle.  This  is  the  real 
man  ;  and  you  can  never  know  him  till  you  have  begun  to 
love  him  ;  and  then  he  lets  you  into  his  inward  experience, 
and  you  know  him  well.  So,  too,  we  cannot  know  God  till 
we  love  God.  Jesus  teaches  us  to  know  God  by  showing 
him  to  us  as  our  Father  and  Friend.  It  is  by  coming  to  him 
day  by  day,  and  trusting  in  him,  and  leaning  on  his  help, 
and  belicvinj'"  in  hi 


STEPS   OP  BELIEF.  41 

throbs  and  aspirations  of  prayer,  that  we  come  at  last  to 
be  as  certain  of  God's  presence  and  love  as  of  our  own 
existence. 

And  so  we  know  Christ  by  loving  him.  Wlien  we  take 
him  as  our  Master,  Friend,  Saviour  ;  when  we  seek  to  obey 
his  divine  law,  and  help  him  in  his  present  work  in  the 
world,  —  we  come  to  know  him.  Pie  who  sympathizes  with 
Christ  in  caring  for  the  poor,  the  ignorant,  the  suffering,  the 
sinful,  and  seeks  to  help  Christ  in  this  his  great  work,  comes 
to  know  Christ.  In  looking  for  his  poor,  we  find  him  ;  in 
visiting  his  prisoners,  Ave  visit  him  ;  in  speaking  words  of 
truth  and  love  to  the  sinful  and  weak,  we  find  ourselves  in 
secret  intimacy  and  sympathy  with  our  Master.  We  do  not 
know  Christ  only  by  reading  about  his  life  and  miracles,  but 
by  having  him  formed  in  our  hearts,  by  making  ourselves 
Christs  to  other  souls,  by  letting  his  spirit  act  in  and 
through  us,  and  so  leading  others  to  him. 

And  so,  at  last,  we  also  know  immortality.  That  ceases 
to  be  belief,  and  becomes  knowledge.  We  begin  by  believ- 
ing in  a  future  life  on  outward  evidence  :  we  end  by  know- 
ing it  by  instinctive  conviction.  We  experience  immortality 
every  time  that  we  live  and  act  from  an  immortal  motive. 
Whenever  we  go  out  of  ourselves  and  our  own  self-interest, 
we  are  immortal :  we  have  eternal  life  abiding  in  us.  The 
more  we  live  so,  the  more  certain  we  are  of  our  own  immor- 
tality and  that  of  others.  "  He  who  liveth  and  believeth  in 
me  shall  never  die,"  said  Jesus.  He  did  not  see  death  :  he 
could  not  see  it  any  more  than  the  sun  can  see  a  shadow. 
All  high,  generous  motive  obliterates  death  from  the  pure 
vision.  It  is  not  our  duty  to  think  of  death  :  our  duty  is  to 
think  of  life.  We  are  to  live  as  though  there  were  no  such 
thing  in  the  world  as  death,  either  for  ourselves  or  others. 
Think  of  God, 'of  Christ,  of  duty,  of  immortality,  of  love, 
and  you  shall  realize  the  truth  of  the  saying  of  Jesus,  "•  I 
am  the  resurrection  and  the  life.  He  that  liveth  and  be- 
lieveth in  me  shall  never  die." 


42  STEPS   OF   BELIEF. 

So,  my  friends,  it  is  our  privilege  and  duty  to  pass  on  from 
the  belief  of  testimony,  in  which  we  arc  born  and  nursed,  to 
the  belief  of  experience  and  personal  conviction.  Step  by 
step,  life  leads  us  on,  and  deepens  every  conviction,  changing 
opinion  into  knowledge.  Doubts  and  fears  vanish  one  by 
one  ;  uncertainty  and  scepticism  pass  away.  So  the  storm  of 
yesterday,  which  darkened  all  the  sky  with  a  triple  canopy 
of  clouds,  and  threatened  us  with  a  rainy  Sunday,  has  gone 
by,  and  left  a  serene,  cloudless  heaven.  And  so,  too,  shall 
this  awful  hurricane  of  war,  which  has  burst  upon  our 
land,  also  pass  by,  leaving  us  a  clearer  atmosphere  than 
before,  and  a  purer  air  to  breathe  ;  leaving  us  righteousness 
in  tiie  })lace  of  iniquity  ;  true  peace  instead  of  a  false  one  ; 
real  union  instead  of  hollow  compromises  ;  in  place  of  a  na- 
tion hampered  and  fettered  by  evil  institutions,  a  great  and 
noble  Christian  republic,  with  its  fiice  lifted  to  the  future, 
and  the  rising  sun  of  coming  centuries  of  human  progress 
glowing  around  its  brow  as  an  immortal  halo  of  glory. 


V. 

THE   THORN  IN  THE  ELESH. 
2  Cor.  xii.  7  :  "  There  was  given  to  me  a  thorn  in  the  flesh,  the 

MESSENGER  OF  SaTAN,  TO  BUFFET  ME,  LEST  I  SHOULD  BE  EXALTED 
ABOVE  MEASURE." 

WHAT  this  "thorn  in  the  flesh"  was,  no  one  knows. 
There  has  been  no  end  to  conjecture  ;  but  it  leads  to 
nothing.  All  we  know  is,  that  something  in  his  soul,  which 
he  compares  to  a  thorn  sticking  in  the  flesh,  pained  him  and 
weakened  him.  Like  a  thorn  in  the  flesh,  it  was  a  foreign 
substance  introduced  into  his  soul  and  life.  Like  a  thorn  in 
the  flesh,  it  often  gave  him  intense  pain.  Like  a  thorn  in  the 
flesh,  it  disabled  him,  in  some  way  or  at  some  times,  from 
doing  his  work.  Thus  much  Ave  know  :  also  we  know  that 
he  earnestly  prayed  three  times,  but  without  any  success, 
hoping  to  get  rid  of  his  trouble  ;  and  that  he  found,  at  last, 
that  the  trouble  was  good ;  that,  when  humbled,  he  was  ex- 
alted, when  weak  strong,  according  to  the  everlasting  Chris- 
tian paradox.  From  all  this  we  may  learn  some  useful 
lessons. 

For,  first,  we  all  have  something  which  goes  with  us,  stays 
by  us,  hides  itself  away  in  our  soul,  and  which  is  like  a  thorn 
in  the  flesh.  It  is  a  foreign  substance  ;  something  unnatural, 
by  no  means  a  part  of  our  true  lives.  It  is  something  which 
opposes  our  best  progress,  interferes  with  our  siucerest  efforts 
to  do  right ;  a  messenger  of  Satan,  therefore  ;  and  yet  it  is 
somehow  sent  by  God,  — "  given  us."  says  the  text ;  and 
which   God  finds  to  be  for  our  good,  and  refuses   to  take 

(43) 


44  THE  THORN  IN  THE  FLESH. 

away.  It  is  something  which  makes  us  weak,  yet  strong 
in  our  weakness ;  which  humbles  us,  yet  gives  the  very 
liumility  we  want  in  order  to  rise. 

Let   us  consider  some  of  these  thorns. 

Sickness  is  a  tliorn.  Some  fine  brain,  like  Pascal's,  or 
Robert  Hall's,  or  Buckminster's,  has  a  fibre  which  makes 
discord  ;  and  tiie  whole  economy  of  thought  stands  still. 
Some  spirit  ready  to  devote  itself  to  great  duties,  a  young 
man  just  entering  the  ministry  of  Christ,  a  noble  woman  like 
Mrs.  Browning,  an  inspired  teacher  of  the  race  like  Dr. 
Cliauning,  a  child  of  genius  like  Mozart  or  RatFaelle,  from 
the  weakness  of  an  ill-assorted  body,  die  at  the  beginning  of 
their  work,  or  are  hampered  and  checked  all  the  way  through 
by  the  poor  body.  The  sweet  bells  of  their  soul  make  no 
adequate  music,  but  are  jangled,  out  of  tuuQ,  and  harsh  ;  or 
else  they  iiill  into  silence  just  as  the  awakened  world  listens 
for  their  wide-rolling  melodies.  A  son  longing  to  support 
his  widowed  mother,  a  daughter  perfectly  trained  in  intel- 
lect and  heart  to  help  and  bless  those  who  need  her  care, 
is  smitten  into  palsied  helplessness  by  some  inexorable  dis- 
ease. "  How  mysterious  the  Providence,"  we  say,  ''  that 
tiiese  should  be  thus  arrested!  while  some  hard,  tyrannical 
liusband,  some  stolid,  selfish  worldling,  some  reckless  spend- 
tlirift  and  swindler,  says,  '  What's  the  use  of  anybody's  being 
sick?  /never  knew  a  sick  day  in  my  life.'  "  The  man  who 
uses  his  health  as  a  despot  is  healthy  :  the  man  who  would 
use  it  for  boundless  service  to  his  race  has  it  not.  Legree's 
nerves,  muscles,  and  sinews  are  all  perfect ;  but  the  angelic 
Kva  fades  before  the  moth.  So  that  this  pathetic  minor 
crosses  our  ears  in  all  the  world's  music :  this  is  the  sad 
refrain  of  all  our  poetry,  singing  evermore,  — 

**  She  was  of  this  world,  where  tlic  things  most  sweet 
Puss  soonest  .iway ; 
And  Rose  met  the  fate  which  oilier  roses  meet,  — 
To  bloom  for  a  day." 


THE   THORN   IN   THE    FLESH.  45 

Another  thorn  in  the  flesh  is  the  unexpressed  soul.  It  is 
homeliness,  awkwardness,  inability  to  express  one's  self  easily 
and  adequately.  How  many  poor  souls,  full  of  noble  senti- 
ments and  ideas,  are  hemmed  in  and  shut  up  by  these  bar- 
riers !  They  sit  like  the  prince  in  the  "  Arabian  Nights," 
with  half  his  body  black  marble.  Young  people  feel  this 
thorn  very  keenly.  They  cannot  pass  for  what  they  are 
worth,  they  cannot  have  what  they  have  a  right  to  have,  just 
because  the  cruel  step-dame,  Nature,  has  not  loosened  their 
tongue,  —  has  put  on  them  a  strait-jacket  of  mauvaise  honte, 
—  has  given  them  a  poor,  homely  face  or  figure.  It  is  a 
perpetual  thorn  in  the  flesh,  and  a  barrier  to  their  usefulness. 
The  beautiful  soul  is  put  into  the  homely  body,  and  sees  some 
very  commonplace  soul  dwelling  hard  by  in  a  lovely,  all- 
attracting  form.  From  these  lips,  the  magic  of  grace  makes 
the  silliest  sophism  charming :  in  those,  the  repelling  aus- 
terity of  manner  deprives  the  purest  truth  of  its  power. 

Then  there  is  another  thorn,  worse  than  this,  —  the  black 
drop  of  blood  which  has  got  mingled  in  our  circulation  from 
some  alien  source.  Inherited  depravity,  the  sin  of  the  parent 
visited  upon  the  child  by  some  mysterious  but  inevitable  law 
of  descent,  makes  us  struggle,  all  our  lives  through,  against 
a  messenger  of  Satan  in  our  own  bosom.  If  Satan  could 
send  his  angel  into  the  soul  of  Paul,  and  Paul  could  not  get 
rid  of  him,  we  need  not  wonder  that  these  angels  of  darkness 
come  to  buff'et  us.  These  thorns  stick  fast  in  the  fibres  of 
the  mind  and  heart.  Pity  those  who  thus  sufler,  —  pity,  and 
do  not  blame.  Perhaps  you  meet  every  day  an  overbearing, 
dogmatical  person,  who,  you  are  sure,  is  perfectly  satisfied 
with  himself,  and  who  despises  every  one  else.  You  feel 
yourself  justified  in  despising  him.  But  this  very  man  is 
perfectly  conscious  of  his  faults.  He  struggles  against  them  ; 
he  hates  himself  lor  them.  Though  bearing  so  brave  a  face 
outwardly,  he  is  inwardly  dissatisfied  with  himself  as  much 
as  you  are  with  him.     Pity  him,  therefore.    And  here  is  one 


46  THE  THORN  IN  THE  FLESH. 

who  is  sharp,  cynical,  bitter,  critical,  fault-finding.  It  is  in 
his  blood  to  be  so.  He  finds  fault  all  day  with  himself  for 
being  so.  Cannot  we  try  to  pity  him,  instead  of  hating  him? 
And  here  is  a  fretful  person,  or  a  morose  person,  or  a  grum- 
bling person.  You  cannot  avoid  hira  more  than  he  would 
like  to  avoid  himself.  AVhat  faults  of  temper  are  sticking  in 
us  like  tiiorns  !  Wiiat  habits  of  thought,  of  feeling,  of  speech, 
for  which  we  abhor  ourselves  the  moment  we  have  spoken 
tlie  sharp  word,  done  the  hasty  act,  indulged  the  unworthy 
desire  !  How  we  cry  to  God  to  help  us  out  of  this  misery  ! 
and  cry,  as  it  seems,  in  vain. 

'*  Where  Sin's  red  dragons  lie  in  caverns  deep. 
And  glare  with  stony  eyes  that  never  sleep. 
And  o'er  the  heavenly  fruit  strict  ward  do  keep, — 

"There  our  poor  hearts,  long  struggling  to  get  free. 
Torn  by  the  strife,  in  painful  agony 
Cry  out,  '  0  God,  my  God,  deliver  me  ! '  " 

Sometimes  the  thorn  seems  to  be,  not  in  ourselves,  but  in 
our  circumstances.  How  happy  we  might  have  been,  how 
good  we  might  have  been,  but  for  this  unfortunate  lot !  Pov- 
erty is  the  weight  which  rests  on  some  lives.  They  feel  that 
their  best  powers  are  wasted  in  a  mere  struggle  for  existence. 
They  have  no  leisure  for  improvement,  —  no  time  for  thought, 
for  good  society,  for  hopeful  and  humane  endeavor.  Poverty 
is  the  angel  of  Satan  sent  to  buffet  them.  They  grow  bitter 
against  their  condition,  they  rebel  against  the  hardship  of 
their  lot.  Or  else  there  is  a  disappointed  hope,  a  chamber 
of  the  heart  closed  and  barred,  and  left  without  a  tenant.  O, 
if  that  dear  child  had  lived;  if  that  friend  had  not  jxone, 
wliose  soul  lifted  ours  into  another  world,  —  how  different 
we  should  have  been  !  We  hug  our  bereavement,  with  bit- 
ter determination  not  to  be  comforted.  We  press  the  thorn 
into  our  heart.  There  is  a  happy  street  for  us  in  the  world 
above,  where  we  may  meet  our  lost  friend  again  ;  but  no 
happy  street  shall  we  ever  find  here. 


THE  THORN  IN  THE  FLESH.  47 

What  deeper  thorn  in  the  heart  than  the  sense  of  an  irrep- 
arable loss  ?  But  within  these  two  years  we  have  seen  the 
best  blood  of  the  land,  the  purest  and  noblest  children  born 
in  our  Northern  homes,  go  out  to  die,  with  their  fathers* 
blessing  and  their  mothers'  kiss.  These  children,  for  Avhose 
coming  God  prepared  this  fair  land,  that  they  might  open 
their  infant  eyes  on  the  beauty  of  its  hills  and  valleys,  its 
lakes  and  forests  ;  for  whose  childhood,  past  generations  of 
thinkers,  from  Plato  and  Aristotle  down  to  Pestalozzi  and 
Horace  Mann,  have  been  providing  methods  of  education,  — 
these  young  men,  purified  in  the  calm  atmosphere  of  virtuous 
homes,  developed  by  the  training  and  discipline  of  schools,  of 
study,  of  books,  of  travel,  the  costly  fruit  of  the  latest  century 
and  the  most  advanced  race,  go  to  die  in  a  field  of  unavailing 
slaughter.  Well,  I  visit  their  mothers  or  sisters,  their  fathers 
or  brothers,  when  the  fatal  news  arrives.  I  go  with  fear, 
dreading  to  meet  such  a  great  and  hopeless  anguish.  I  find 
heaven  there.  I  find  the  peace  of  God  in  their  souls.  It  is 
the  happiest  place  in  the  city  to  go  to.  I  cannot  bear  to  leave 
such  a  divine  atmosphere.  I  go  to  carry  sympathy,  and  per- 
haps Avords  of  comfort :  but  I  receive  instead  inspiration,  and 
the  influences  of  angelic  joy.  Together  Avith  the  deep  sense 
of  bereavement,  the  thorn  penetrating  the  depth  of  the  soul, 
the  lethal  arrow  not  to  be  taken  from  the  heart  while  the 
heart  beats,  there  is  this  strange  serenity,  sent  down  direct 
from  God.  And  the  boy,  falling  on  the  battle-field,  renews 
all  the  tales  of  Greek  and  Roman  heroism.  We  can  burn  our 
"  Plutarch."  We  do  not  need  to  read  hereafter  the  stories 
of  Themistocles,  of  Aristides,  or  Leonidas.  These  Boston 
children,  your  brothers  and  sons,  are  to  be  spoken  of  in  his- 
tory forever,  and  are  to  be  the  illuminating  lights  of  the 
coming  age.  This  is  the  thorn  in  the  flesh,  —  deep  as  death, 
but  changing  into  the  most  divine  beauty  and  life  for  all 
time. 

The  old  painters  delighted  in  taking  for  their  subject  the 


48  THE  THORN  IN  THE  FLESH. 

martyrdom  of  St.  Sebastian  ;  perhaps  because  it  gave  them 
an  opportunity  of  painting  a  beautiful,  manly  figure,  who  in 
Christian  art  corresponds  to  the  Antinous  in  Greek  sculp- 
ture ;  but  also,  I  think,  because  it  gave  them  the  occasion  to 
attempt  that  high  problem  of  artistic  genius,  —  the  represen- 
tation of  outward  sulTeriDg  passing  into  a  deep  inward  peace 
and  joy.  This  youthful  form,  all  aglow  with  life  and  health, 
with  no  saintly  emaciation,  is  bound  to  a  tree,  and  pierced 
with  arrows,  with  crimson  blood  oozing  from  the  wounds  ; 
but  the  face  is  radiant  with  celestial  joy,  to  which  the  suffer- 
ing gives  relief.  So  on  a  summer  day,  a  dark  background 
of  shadowy  hills,  with  a  purple  thunder-storm  passing  behind, 
relieves  and  euhaaces  the  sunny  glory  and  beauty  of  the 
nearer  valleys,  waving  in  green  luxuriance  beneath  the  blue 
sky.  So  the  thorn  in  the  flesh  becomes  the  test  and  sign  of 
the  highest  life. 

But  perhaps  the  worst  of  these  thorns  of  circumstance  are 
to  be  found  in  the  ill-assorted  home,  where  the  sweetest  ties 
of  life  become  fetters  and  manacles  ;  the  daily  cup  of  bless- 
ing becoming  a  cup  of  poison,  from  mutual  misunderstand- 
ing, or  want  of  adaptation.  In  a  true  home,  hearts  tend  to 
each  other  in  confidence,  by  a  natural  attraction,  as  the  pen- 
dulum to  its  centre.  The  soul  expands  into  fullest  develop- 
ment in  that  genial  atmosphere.  I  think  the  home  shows 
itself  a  true  one  as  it  takes  off  restraint  from  the  soul,  and 
removes  reserves,  while  preserving  tender  thoughtfulness  and 
mutual  deference.  Love  teaches  respect  without  reserve. 
Tiiis  is  its  fornmla.  In  the  world,  and  in  most  places,  we 
arc  like  glaciers,  half  thawed  only,  our  thought  flowing  at 
the  rate  of  a  foot  a  day,  —  a  little  brook  of  utterance  drip- 
ping from  beneath  the  superincumbent  frozen  mass.  But,  in 
the  true  home,  this  glacier  is  melted  in  the  summer  influence 
of  love  and  confidence,  and  flows  down  into  a  lovely  river  ; 
every  sharp,  self-possessed  particle  turning  into  a  liquid  drop 
of  perfect  adaptation.     This  is  the  joy  of  society,  —  entire 


THE   THORN   IN  THE   FLESH.  49 

freedom,  born  of  entire  confidence  in  one  another.  But  how 
often  does  it  happen  otherwise  !  The  soul,  fluent  abroad, 
freezes  at  home.  There  is  no  confidence  between  parents 
and  children.  The  father  thinks  it  his  duty  to  be  stern  and 
uusjmpathizing :  the  sons  carry  elsewhere  their  confidence. 
Brothers  and  sisters  are  ignorant  of  each  other's  interests. 
The  husband  is  a  tyrant,  the  wife  a  slave.  He,  possibly, 
is  a  genteel,  courteous  tyrant ;  she,  doubtless,  a  luxuriously- 
cared-for  slave.  Or  he  is  intemperate,  and  a  brute  ;  she,  a 
patient  angel,  working  herself  into  her  grave  to  support  the 
children  whom  he  neglects.  Or  perhaps  it  is  the  reverse,  — 
he  patiently  toiling  to  support  the  home,  and  she  idly  wast- 
ing in  careless  dissipation  the  fruits  of  his  labor.  This  is  the 
deepest  thorn  in  the  flesh  ;  this  "  the  objection"  (as  Jeremy 
Taylor  says)  "  which  lies  in  one's  bosom." 

What  soul  is  there  that  does  not  have  its  thorn  ?  What 
heart  that  does  not  know  its  own  bitterness  ?  What  society, 
however  graceful,  beautiful,  where  conversation  flows  in  bril- 
liant sweeping  floods  of  eloquence,  or  flashes  in  ripples  and 
waterfalls,  or  moves  calm  and  serene,  — 

*'  A  river  of  thought,  that,  with  delight, 
Divides  the  plain,"  — 

that  has  not  its  jealousies,  its  ennui^  its  weary  sense  of  empti- 
ness, and  often  envies  the  day-laborer  his  healthy  work? 
What  dark,  locked-up  chambers  of  mystery  are  in  every 
household,  every  heart !  But  these  implacable  demons,  sent, 
as  it  seems,  from  hell  below  to  torture  us,  turn  to  smiling 
angels  when  we  cast  our  care  on  God,  and  surrender  our 
will  to  his  will.  They  purify  the  soul ;  they  deepen  it ;  they 
make  life  more  serious,  earnest,  joyful. 

We  find,  by  our  text,  that  there  are  some  limitations  to  the 

effectual,  fervent  prayer  of  the  righteous  man.    Prayer  avails 

much,  but  does  not  remove  these  thorns.     Three  times  Paul 

besought  the  Lord  to  remove  his,  not  because  of  its  anguish, 

4 


50  THE   TUORN   IN   THE   FLESH. 

but  because  it  deprived  hiua  of  power  to  do  his  work  ;  but 
God  said  to  liis  soul,  "  No."  It  was  revealed  to  liLin  that  he 
needed  this  thorn  to  humble  him,  and  to  make  him  lean  more 
wholly  on  God's  truth  and  love.  '*  My  strength  is  made 
perfect  in  thy  weakness."  The  strong,  determined  energy 
of  the  apostle  would  have  become  arrogant  self-reliance  but 
for  this  thorn.     Its  sting  cast  him  more  wholly  on  God. 

And  so  it  may  always  be  with  us.  If  you  have  any  trial 
which  seems  intolerable,  pray,  —  pray  that  it  be  relieved  or 
changed.  There  is  no  harm  in  tluit.  "VVe  may  pray  for  any- 
thing, not  wrong  in  itself,  with  perfect  freedom,  if  we  do  not 
pray  selfishly.  One  disabled  from  duty  by  sickness  may  pray 
for  health,  that  he  may  do  his  work  ;  or  one  hemmed  in  by 
internal  impediments  may  pray  for  utterance,  that  he  may 
serve  better  the  truth  and  the  right.  Or,  if  we  have  a  be- 
setting sin,  we  may  pray  to  be  delivered  from  it,  in  order  to 
serve  God  and  man,  and  not  be  ourselves  Satans  to  mislead 
and  destroy.  But  the  answer  to  the  prayer  may  be,  as  it 
was  to  Paul,  not  the  removal  of  the  thorn,  but,  instead,  a 
growing  insight  into  its  meaning  and  value.  The  voice  of 
God  in  our  soul  may  show  us,  as  we  look  up  to  him,  that  his 
strength  is  enough  to  enable  us  to  bear  it. 

The  sickness  may  be  not  to  death,  but  to  life.  AYc,  in  our 
sickness,  may  do  more  than  in  our  health.  Our  poverty, 
which  seems  such  a  manacle,  may  unite  us  in  deeper  sym- 
pathy with  our  race,  and  throw  us  more  wholly  on  God. 
The  rich  man  is  tempted  to  lean  on  his  mortgages  and 
stocks  :  but  the  poor  man  is  induced  to  lean  daily  on  God 
for  daily  bread ;  and,  as  it  comes  day  by  day,  his  trust 
grows  cheerful  and  confident.  The  man  who  trusts  in  his 
investments  is  frightened  with  every  financial  panic :  the 
man  who  trusts  in  God  is  always  brave.  And  so  it  often 
happens,  that  the  man  of  millions,  unless  he  keeps  up  his 
courage  by  giving  away  freely,  is  afraid  of  poverty  ;  but  the 
man  who  has  nothing  but  God  is  afraid  of  nothing,  and  so 
possesses  all  things. 


THE  THORN  IN  THE  FLESH.  51 

We  pray  against  our  besetting  sin.  But  God  may  answer 
this  prayer,  not  by  removing  the  temptation,  but  by  giving 
us  more  confidence  in  him,  more  sense  of  his  pardoning  love 
in  Christ,  more  of  a  sentiment  of  steadfast  reliance,  more  of 
habitual  living  with  God.  Instead  of  removing  the  tempta- 
tion, he  comes  and  dwells  with  us.  God  and  Christ  make 
their  abode  by  our  side.  "  Most  gladly,  therefore,  we  glory 
in  our  infirmities,  that  the  peace  of  Christ  may  rest  upon 
us.  God  does  not  take  away  the  Red  Sea,  nor  the  wilder- 
ness, nor  Jordan,  but  goes  with  us  through  them  all,  —  a 
cloud  by  day,  a  pillar  of  fire  by  night.  Nothing  brings  us 
so  near  to  God  as  the  sense  of  our  spiritual  and  moral  needs. 

According  to  one  theory  of  life,  the  true  progress  of  man 
consists  in  removing  all  obstacles,  making  all  conditions 
harmonious,  all  work  attractive,  all  relatious  agreeable  and 
suitable.  Following  out  this  theory,  we  strive  to  break  away 
from  all  inharmonious  relations.  But  the  poor  Irish  woman, 
who  clings  to  her  brutal,  drunken  husband,  and  says,  "  He 
was  good,  ma'am,  once,  and  he's  my  husband,"  can  teach 
these  philosophers  a  lesson.  I  do  not  say  that  she  is  right, 
or  that  they  are  wrong ;  but  I  do  say,  that  true  human  prog- 
ress often  consists  rather  in  taking  the  good  of  our  position, 
and  bearing  its  evils,  than  in  breaking  away  from  inharmoni- 
ous relatious.  The  world  advances  through  shadow  as  Avell 
as  through  sunshine.  The  heart  grows  great  and  noble  by 
manfully  meeting  and  bearing  the  great  trials  of  life.  When 
we  are  weak,  then  we  are  strong. 

This  nation  of  ours,  amid  all  its  prosperity,  has  had  its 
thorn  in  the  flesh.  The  institution  of  negro  slavery  in  the 
United  States  has  been  the  one  thorn  in  our  destiny,  the  one 
difficulty  of  our  situation.  All  good  men  have  sought  for 
years,  and  prayed,  that  this  thorn  might  be  removed.  We 
have  tried  to  get  rid  of  it  by  colonization,  by  emancipation, 
by  debate,  and  all  varied  efforts,  —  in  vain.  God  has  left 
this  thorn  in  the  flesh  of  the  nation  to  sting  it  into  humility, 


52  THE  THORN   IN  THE  FLESH. 

and  reliance  on  him  ;  and  now  it  has  humbled  us  indeed.  It 
has  destroyed  for  a  time  our  Union,  taken  away  our  pros- 
perity, involved  the  present  in  doubts  and  the  future  in  dark- 
ness, and  caused  all  Europe  to  shake  its  head  at  us  in 
derision.  But  this  humiliation  the  country  needed ;  and 
this  thorn  is  allowed  to  remain,  till  we  learn  to  lean  on  God 
and  truth,  on  justice  and  humanity,  not  on  our  own  strength, 
energy,  wealth,  and  abundant  power.  Nothing  else,  perhaps, 
could  have  taken  out  of  the  national  mind  that  egregious  van- 
ity and  self-esteem  which  was  growing  more  colossal  every 
year.  We  seemed  to  suppose  that  it  was  our  own  energy 
and  ability  which  had  prepared  for  us  the  continent.  We 
took  credit  to  ourselves  for  the  richness  of  our  land,  the  ex- 
tent of  our  soil,  the  treasures  of  minerals  and  vegetables 
which  we  possessed.  We  felt  a  little  proud  because  our 
rivers  were  so  long,  and  our  States  so  large.  As  for  our 
prosperity,  we  attributed  it  wholly  to  our  own  enterprise  and 
talent.  No  wonder  that  the  Old  World  listened  to  us  with 
some  disgust ;  and  so  now,  in  our  trial,  we  do  not  obtain  its 
whole  sympathy.  It  might  have  had  sympathy  with  our 
cau^e,  if  not  with  us.  But  better  for  us,  perhaps,  to  learn  to 
stand  alone,  and  fight  our  own  way  back  to  union  and  peace. 

"  Leaves  fall ;  but,  lo,  the  young  buds  peep  ! 
Flowers  die ;  but  still  their  seed  shall  bloom. 
From  death  the  quick  young  life  will  leap, 
Now  Spring  has  come  to  touch  the  tomb. 
The  splendid  shiver  of  brave  blood 
Is  thrilling  through  our  country'  now ; 
And  she,  who  in  old  times  Avithatood 
The  tyrant,  lifts  again  her  brow. 
God's  precious  charge  we  sternly  keep 
Unto  the  final  victory  : 
With  freedom  we  will  live,  or  sleep 
With  our  great  dead  who  set  us  free. 
God  forget  us,  when  we  forget 
To  keep  the  old  flag  flying  yet !  " 


VI. 

FAITHFUL   OVER  A  FEW  THINGS. 
Matt.  XXV,  21:  "Faithful  over  a  few  things." 

IT  is  a  peculiarity  of  Christianity  to  lay  stress  on  little 
things.  It  cares  more  for  quality  than  for  quantity. 
One  man  "  may  bestow  all  his  goods  to  feed  the  poor  ;  "  and 
yet  the  gospel  shall  pronounce  him  devoid  of  love  to  his 
neighbor,  and  of  less  account  than  the  poor  widow  who  puts 
her  two  mites  into  the  treasury  of  God.  It  is  not,  "  How 
much  have  you  done?"  but,  "In  what  spirit  have  you 
acted?"  not,  "How  long?"  but  "How  well?" 

Every  man's  life  has  a  law  which  governs  it.  All  that  he 
does  unconsciously,  he  does  according  to  that  law.  Is  his 
ruling  motive  ambition,  pleasure,  conscience,  love  of  truth, 
love  of  God  ?  Then  that  ruling  motive  colors  every  act ; 
and  every  word  he  utters  in  his  most  careless  hours  partakes 
of  that  general  determination.  And  therefore  for  every  idle 
word  shall  he  give  an  account,  because  his  idle  words  are  all 
polarized  by  the  central  magnetism  which  governs  his  soul. 
In  the  English  marine,  it  is  said,  there  is  a  thread  of  scarlet 
M'hich  is  woven  into  all  the  cordage,  from  the  largest  cable 
to  the  smallest  line.  It  is  the  mark  of  government  property. 
So  a  line  of  red  runs  through  all  of  our  thoughts,  worlds, 
feelings,  and  actions.  It  is  the  stamp  of  our  character  upon 
each  one  of  them.  So  Shakspeare  never  introduces  on  the 
stage  a  character  that  is  not  qualified  by  an  individuality. 

(53) 


54  FAITHFUL   OVER   A    FEW  THINGS. 

If  he  speaks  a  second  time  in  the  play,  you  may  know  that 
it  is  the  same  person  who  spoke  before. 

If  there  is  such  a  Law  of  unity  pervading  our  lives,  some 
of  us  are  not  very  well  aware  of  it.  We  think  that  we  can 
act  one  way  in  small  things,  another  way  in  great  ones  :  that 
in  small  matters  we  are  not  under  law,  but  that  in  great 
things  we  are.  So  we  come  to  de-spise  or  to  neglect  small 
matters.  We  trifle  with  truth  in  little  things,  with  honesty 
in  little  things,  with  the  law  of  reverence  or  of  love  in  little 
things. 

But  what  is  the  meaning  of  the  word  "integrity"?  It 
means  thoroughness,  entireness  ;  putting  the  same  quality 
of  soul  into  everything,  great  and  small.  No  one  is  a  man 
of  integrity  who  does  not  do  every  thing  with  the  same  un- 
deviating  honesty,  the  same  unbending  principle.  The  man 
of  real  integrity  puts  the  whole  energy  of  conscience,  faith, 
love,  into  the  smallest  act  as  into  the  greatest.  So  the 
steam-engine  in  a  factory  exerts  the  same  tremendous  power 
to  cut  in  two  an  iron  bar,  or  to  stick  a  pin  into  a  card. 

Christianity  does  not  allow  us  to  trifle  with  anything. 
There  is  nothing  trivial  to  the  illuminated  eye  and  heart  of 
faith.  He  who  says  to  his  brother,  "  Thou  fool ! "  is  in 
danger  of  hell-fire.  He  is,  in  fact,  already  in  hell-fire  ;  for 
the  feeling  of  contempt  for  his  brother,  the  scorn  and  disdain 
which  can  thus  reject  from  its  sympathy  a  fellow-man,  is 
itself  the  spirit  of  the  pit. 

"  He  who  hatelh  his  brother,"  says  the  apostle,  "  is  a 
murderer."  His  hate  may  vent  itself  in  no  deadly  act,  in 
no  word  of  injury  :  but  the  hatred  in  the  heart  is  murder- 
ous ;  it  is  tending  that  way.  It  is  the  arc  of  the  (airve,  the 
return  of  which  is  deadly. 

A  similar  error  leads  us  often  to  say,  "  How  much  good  I 
would  do  with  my  money,  if  I  were  as  rich  as  this  man  or 
the  other!"  How  much  good  do  you  do  noiv  with  what 
you    have?     "O!    if  1    had    only  time,  what  would  I  not 


FAITHFUIi   OVER   A   FEW   THINGS.  65 

learn  and  do  !  "  says  another.  How  do  you  spend  the  time 
you  have  f  If  you  do  not  spend  well  the  small  time  you 
have  to  spend,  the  little  money  you  have  to  use,  why  do 
you  think  you  would  do  better  with  more  ?  The  astronomer 
turns  his  glass  to  the  heavens,  and  fixes  three  little  points  of 
the  comet's  course,  and  so  finds  a  small  arc  of  its  curve. 
From  that  arc  he  can  predict  the  whole.  And  so  there  may 
be  an  angel  looking  down  this  moment  on  you  and  me,  see- 
ing what  we  have  done  yesterday,  the  day  before  yesterday, 
and  to-day  ;  and  from  these  three  positions  of  our  soul,  he  may 
infer  the  path  in  which  we  are  moving,  —  inward  towards 
the  sun  of  life  and  light,  or  outward  into  darkness,  coldness, 
and  death. 

Here  is  a  man  who  is  a  petty  tyrant.  He  bullies  the 
weak,  he  dictates  to  the  submissive.  U  he  is  a  coarse  and 
ignorant  man,  he  beats  his  wife  ;  if  he  is  a  refined  and  edu- 
cated man,  he  civilly  and  politely  tyrannizes  over  her.  If 
he  is  a  master,  he  is  harsh  to  his  dependants  ;  if  a  lawyer, 
he  badgers  the  witnesses,  particularly  if  they  are  women  and 
children.  Now,  because  this  man  happens  to  live  in  a  I'ree 
State,  is  he  any  the  less  a  slaveholder?  Because  he  has  no 
opportunity  to  torment  whole  communities,  is  he  any  the  less 
a  Nero?  Here  is  another  man,  who  cannot  bear  to  be  con- 
tradicted in  argument,  and  gets  angry  with  his  opponent 
when  he  cannot  convince  him.  In  him  dwells  the  spirit  of 
a  Dominic  or  a  Torquemada.  Give  him  the  power,  and  he 
would  straightway  put  on  the  rack  a  man  who  differed  from 
him.  Here  is  another,  Avho  indulges  his  appetites,  his  pas- 
sions, his  desires,  a  little  way,  and  then  stops  short  of  de- 
bauchery and  intemperance,  because  he  is  afraid  of  the 
consequences.  In  his  heart  he  is  nevertheless  guilty  of  the 
acts  which  his  hand  may  never  perform. 

I  once  heard  of  a  colored  preacher,  who  used  this  plain  but 
striking  image  in  a  sermon  :  "  You  think,  my  brethren,  that 
you  can  go  a  little  way  out  of  God's  road  into  the  devil's 


56  FAITHFUL   OVER   A    FEW  THINGS. 

field,  and  not  be  caught,  provided  yon  do  not  go  too  far. 
But  the  devil  is  not  such  a  fool,  -when  he  spreads  his  nets 
and  sets  his  traps  for  you,  to  put  tliem  away  in  the  middle 
of  his  field.  No  :  he  puts  them  close  to  the  road :  so,  if  you 
mean  to  go  a  great  way  or  only  a  little  way,  he  is  sure  to 
have  you  in  either  case."  The  illustration  was  homely  ;  but 
the  doctrine  is  sound. 

Perhaps  we  can  best  see  how  the  moral  difference  between 
men  consists  in  a  quality  of  conviction  and  purpose,  running 
into  all  they  do,  by  comparing  together  different  persons  in 
the  same  walk  or  pursuit. 

I  can  conceive  that  there  may  be  two  men,  equally  active, 
laborious,  and  eminent  in  the  same  profession  or  trade  ;  and 
one  shall  be  doing  a  great  work  by  his  occupation,  while  the 
other  shall  be  really  doing  very  little.  I  may  illustrate  this 
by  describing  two  lawyers,  two  physicians,  two  merchants, 
and  two  clergymen. 

There  are  two  lawyers.  Counsellor  A.  and  Counsellor  B. 
Counsellor  A.  studied  law,  believing  human  law  to  be 
founded  on  divine  law  ;  to  be  an  attempt  to  organize  justice, 
truth,  and  right,  in  human  institutions.  He  considers  it  his 
business  as  a  lawyer  to  protect  the  weak,  to  restrain  the 
injustice  of  the  powerful,  to  search  out  the  truth  in  intricate 
and  dark  cases,  so  that  the  innocent  may  be  proved  inno- 
cent, and  the  guilty  punished,  lie  trains  his  intellect  to  be 
acute,  penetrating,  comprehensive,  and  full  of  resource,  in 
order  to  hunt  the  flying  footsteps  of  truth,  and  pour  light 
into  the  tangled  maze  of  error  and  sophistry.  With  the 
authority  of  insight,  he  makes  peace  between  litigants,  by 
si  lowing  each  where  he  is  in  error ;  and  he  stands  among 
men  as  a  judge,  though  he  may  not  have  the  title  or  the 
office.  He  does  a  great  work  for  society ;  and,  when  he 
dies.  Justice  and  Trutli  weep  over  his  grave  ;  for,  with  liim, 
God's  law  always  reigned  supreme. 

Meantime  Counsellor  B.  is  a  different  sort  of  a  man.     Ho 


FAITHFUL  OVER   A    FEW   THINGS.  57 

is  a  great  lawyer  too.  He  entered  his  profession  to  make 
money,  to  get  influence,  to  acquire  reputation  ;  and  he  has 
got  them  all  three.  He  regards  all  laws  as  equally  arbitrary 
and  accidental,  resting  on  no  basis  of  absolute  justice  ;  and 
therefore  all,  good  or  bad,  to  be  equally  deserving  of  respect. 
His  business,  as  a  lawyer,  is  to  get  his  case.  He  will  use 
any  argument  by  which  any  juryman  can  be  persuaded.  If 
he  cannot  convince,  he  will  confuse  ;  if  he  cannot  prove,  he 
will  puzzle  ;  if  he  has  no  arguments,  he  has  plenty  of  soph- 
isms. He  is  a  great  orb,  raying  out  darkness.  Such  a  man 
may  work  very  hard  all  his  life,  and  yet  die  at  last,  having 
done  no  real  work  for  mankind. 

Then  there  are  two  physicians.  Dr.  C.  and  Dr.  D.  Dr.  C. 
feels  a  strong  sympathy  for  human  suffering,  and  a  desire 
to  alleviate  it.  He  believes  that  it  is  God  who  has  given 
wonderful  healing  properties  to  plants  and  minerals  ;  and  he 
studies  patiently  and  carefully  symptoms  and  remedies. 
Every  case  is  sacred  to  him.  The  sickness  of  the  beggar 
has  his  attention,  like  that  of  the  prince.  He  is  humble 
enough  and  wise  enough  to  admit  that  he  does  not  know 
everything.  He  confesses  his  ignorance,  and  is  ready  to 
receive  light.  He  does  not  go  blindly  and  dogmatically 
according  to  his  theory,  but  patiently  interrogates  Nature, 
and  sits  at  her  feet  waiting.  He  also  asks  God's  blessing 
on  all  that  he  undertakes,  and  enters  his  patient's  chamber 
with  prayer.  What  a  great  work  does  not  such  a  man  do 
in  the  world  !  He  carries  health  of  mind  as  well  as  of  body 
to  a  thousand  homes  ;  and  to  such  a  one  we  may  apply  the 
words  of  the  poet,  — 

*'  I  have  lain  on  the  sick  man's  bed, 
"Watching  for  hours  for  the  leech's  tread, 
As  if  I  deemed  that  his  presence  alone 
Had  power  to  bid  my  pain  begone ; 
I  have  listed  his  words  of  comfort  given, 
As  if  to  oracles  from  heaven  ; 
I  have  counted  his  steps  from  my  chamber-door, 
And  blest  tlieiii  wlien  they  were  heard  no  more." 


58  FAITHFUL   OVER    A    FEW   THINGS. 

But  Dr.  D.  is  of  another  school.  He  is  a  pedant,  and 
prescribes  according  to  some  little  theory.  He  is  conceited 
and  vain,  —  vain  of  his  own  science,  vain  of  his  profession 
and  clique.  Very  bitter  is  he  against  innovators  and  inter- 
lopers. He  had  rather  a  man  should  die  under  the  regular 
pi-actice  than  get  well  by  an  irregularity.  He  has  no  awe, 
no  fear,  no  great  sense  of  responsibility,  no  tender  human 
love.  He  is  not  living  to  be  useful,  but  living  to  be  success- 
lul ;  and  his  work  is  not  really  work,  —  it  is  idleness. 

And  here  are  two  merchants,  Mr.  E.  and  F.  The  first 
regards  commerce  as  a  great  means  of  civilization.  The 
siiip  which  carries  goods  carries  ideas  ;  and  the  minds  of  na- 
tions are  woven  together  by  the  winged  shuttles  which  cross 
and  recross  the  resounding  ocean.  He  enlarges  trade  by  an 
infusion  of  generosity  and  magnanimity.  His  ships  go  as 
missionaries ;  his  sailors  are  treated  as  men.  Such  large 
and  generous  views  elevate  a  trade  to  the  dignity  of  a  mis- 
sion ;  and  the  princely-minded  merchant  does  a  great  work 
in  the  world,  even  though  his  means  be  small. 

But  Mr.  F.  I  sliall  not  describe,  because  it  is  not  neces- 
sary. There  are  in  business  too  many  men  who  merely^ask 
how  they  can  make  money,  not  how  they  can  do  good  by 
their  business.  We  know  the  result  of  this, — how  mind 
and  heart  are  narrowed,  and  how  the  great  business  may 
turn  out  at  last  a  mere  waste  of  life. 

What  more  blessed  work  than  that  of  a  good  clergyman  ? 
—  one  who  is  modest  but  manly,  whose  heart  is  in  his  work, 
whose  life  is  given  to  making  men  happier  and  better.  He 
sees  all  sides  of  life.  He  is  welcome  in  the  homes  of  the 
rich  and  the  poor,  the  intelligent  and  the  ignorant.  He  goes 
IVoni  the  wedding  to  tiie  funeral,  from  the  gay  dinner-party  to 
the  bedside  of  the  dying.  To  him  men  bring  their  confidences  : 
lie  sees  human  nature  from  the  inside  as  well  as  the  outside. 
Men  of  the  world  think  they  understand  human  nature  be- 
cause  they  know   men  in    their   business    hours,  —  because 


FAITHFUL   OVER   A    FEW   THINGS.  59 

they  know  them  in  the  street  and  shop,  in  the  court-room 
and  on  'change.  But  in  these  places  they  see  just  so  much 
of  them  as  the  fencer  or  boxer  sees  of  his  opponent.  Men 
meet  each  other  there  armed  for  battle.  We  sec  the  fighting- 
side  of  men  at  such  times.  But  the  minister,  if  he  is  a  man 
of  sense,  no  pedant,  nor  made  morbid  by  a  gloomy  theology  ; 
if  he  is  a  man  in  whom  others  place  confidence  as  sincere 
and  conscientious,  —  has  opportunities  of  knowing  and  help- 
ing men  which  few  others  can  obtain.  He  has  enough  to  do, 
enough  to  learn,  enough  opportunity  for  loving  and  being 
loved.     What  more  does  he  want  here  or  anywhere? 

But  a  clergyman  who  is  ambitious  for  success  outside  of 
his  work ;  who  is  aiming  at  worldly  position  or  literary  re- 
nown ;  who  loves  pleasure  or  ease  ;  who  is  narrow  in  his 
views  ;  is  a  bigot  or  a  partisan,  —  such  a  one  may  do  more 
harm  than  good.  jHe  loves  his  creed  more  than  truth,  he 
loves  his  sect  more  than  Christianity,  and  himself  most  of 
all.  If  the  interests  of  his  church  are  identified  with  some 
abuse,  then  he  comes  at  last  to  apologize  for  or  defend  the 
abuse.  Thus  we  have  seen,  in  our  day,  the  example  of 
Christian  ministers,  servants  of  him  who  came  to  break 
every  yoke  and  let  the  oppressed  go  free,  defending  slavery, 
and  opposing  the  roused  conscience  and  heart  of  mankind 
with  arguments  drawn  from  the  curse  of  Noah.     They 

"  Torture  the  pages  of  the  blessed  Bible, 
To  sanction  crime  and  robbery  and  blood, 
And,  in  Oppression's  hateful  service,  libel 
Both  man  and  God." 

Would  it  not  be  better  if  such  men  had  been  shoe-blacks 
or  day-laborers,  —  better  for  themselves,  and  better  for  man- 
kind? Would  it  not  have  been  better  for  Christianity  if 
they  had  never  been  born? 

Some  men  toil  and  groan  to  be  orthodox,  —  to  have  every 
point  of  their  creed,  and  of  the  creed  of  everybody  else, 
exactly  sound  and  square.     But  one  single  effort  to  get  the 


GO         FAITHFUL  OVER  A  FEW  THINGS. 

truth  is  more  tliiiii  years  of  such  painful  orthodoxy.  One 
hearty,  earnest,  genuine  longing  for  light,  and  struggle  to- 
wards it  ;  one  conscientious  putting-aside  of  prejudice,  party 
feeling,  private  interest,  in  order  to  correct  our  possible 
errors,  —  is  valued,  no  doubt,  far  more  by  God  than  a  lazy 
assent  to  a  whole  bushel  of  propositions,  be  they  never  so 
sound  and  true.  Yes,  there  is  more  faith  in  honest  doubt 
tlian  in  ever  so  much  cowardly  and  indolent  acquiescence  ; 
and,  in  the  day  of  judgment,  I  am  sure  there  will  be  many  a 
man  who  passed  for  an  infidel  here,  and  was  laslied  by  all 
the  orthodox  pulpits,  rostrums,  and  newspapers  for  his  here- 
sies, who  will  shine  forth  as  the  sun  in  the  kingdom  of  the 
Father  ;  for  his  soul  was  white,  and  he  kept  his  mind  un- 
spotted from  the  world. 

These  things  may  teach  us  the  grandeur  and  majesty  of 
our  lives.  There  is  nothing  common,  nothing  unclean,  in 
man's  being  below.  Vast  principles  are  involved  in  all  that 
we  do,  or  omit  to  do,  each  day.  Every  day  we  rise  to  a 
great  career,  a  grand  opportunity.  Into  the  smallest  word 
and  act  we  may  put  the  most  divine  or  the  most  devilish 
spirit.  "We  may  walk  every  day  into  heaven  as  we  walk 
down  the  street,  or  we  may  walk  into  hell.  According  to 
the  state  of  our  soul  every  day,  we  shall  keep  company  with 
ilevils  or  with  angels.  If  we  allow  ourselves  to  be  cold,  self- 
ish, hard,  and  worldly,  we  shall  draw  around  us  a  company 
of  evil  spirits  impure  as  our  own.  If  we  resolve  on  a  noble 
and  generous  direction  of  our  life,  then  angels  and  arch- 
angels, thrones  and  dominions,  holy  and  pure  spirits,  angels 
of  light  and  love,  cherubim  with  many  eyes,  and  seraphim 
covered  with  wings  from  the  nearer  glory  of  God's  presence, 
—  tiiese  will  be  our  companions  and  inward  monitors  ;  for  as 
we  are  inwardly,  in  the  centre  of  our  being,  so  shall  we  be 
surrounded  outwardly. 

And  now,  as  we  have  looked  at  the  working  of  this  law 
on  its  dark  and  threatening  side,  let  us  turn  the  picture,  and 
see  it  on  its  bright  and  encouraging  one. 


FAITHFUL   OVER   A    FEW   THINGS.  61 

It  is  not  any  great  amount  of  work  which  is  required  of 
us  in  order  to  be  good  and  faithful  servants  :  it  is  to  be  genuine 
and  true  in  what  we  do.  For  example,  take  the  subject  of 
prayer.  What  does  Christ  ask  of  you  ?  To  pray  a  great 
deal?  To  pray  so  many  times  a  day?  To  pray  morning, 
noon,  and  night?  Not  at  all.  On  the  contrary,  we  are  told 
not  to  be  like  those  who  expect  to  be  heard  for  their  much 
speaking,  and  who,  for  a  pretence,  make  long  prayers. 
"  When  ye  pray,"  says  the  good  and  generous  Master,  — 
"  when  ye  pray,"  pray  so.  Pray  more,  or  pray  less,  as  your 
needs  impel  you  :  he  leaves  that  to  you.  Only,  when  you 
pray,  pray  in  spirit  and  truth.  Then  be  sincere.  Ask  God 
for  what  you  really  want,  not  what  you  think  it  proper  to  ask 
for.  Do  not  say  a  word  till"  you  really  can  put  your  heart 
into  it. 

Pray  in  that  way,  sincerely,  earnestly,  ever  so  short  a 
prayer,  and  that  will  be  the  same  in  the  sight  of  God  as  if 
you  read  from  a  breviary,  like  a  Catholic  priest,  so  many 
hours  every  day.  If  you  are  faithful  in  the  least,  you  will 
be  faithful  in  much.  If,  when  you  do  pray,  you  pray  with  the 
heart,  and  from  the  heart,  you  will  then  have  the  spirit  of 
prayer  ;  which  is  the  main  thing.  If  you  can  say  once,  from 
the  heart,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me,  a  sinner  !  "  you  have  in 
you  the  same  spirit  of  penitence,  the  same  essential  humility, 
which  was  in  the  soul  of  Peter  when  he  repented  and  was 
forgiven.  Divine  pardon  you  have  tasted  in  that  moment,  and 
know  its  sweetness.  You  are  in  unison  with  the  lowliest  and 
loftiest  saints  who  sing  praises  to  God  nearest  the  throne. 

So,  if  you  are  faithful  in  the  smallest  duty  wlien  tempted 
to  do  wrong,  you  have  in  you  the  spirit  of  all  virtue.  The 
smallest  child  who  resists  a  temptation  to  disobey  is  in  the 
same  sphere  of  spiritual  life  with  the  heroic  souls  of  confess- 
ors and  martyrs.  It  is  therefore  that  we  are  so  moved  by 
all  narrations  of  fidelity,  generosity,  conscientiousness,  no  mat- 
ter how  small  the  sphere  of  action,  or  how  humble  the  actor. 


62  FAITHFUL   OVER   A    FEW  THINGS. 

We  are  not  obliged,  then,  to  pass  our  lives  in  anxiety ;  in 
anxious  thoughts  about  our  duties,  or  in  gloomy  thoughts 
about  our  sins.  Keep  in  the  generous,  kindly,  loving  spirit 
of  Christ,  and  then  "  all  things  are  yours."  One  throb  of 
love  is  -worth  more,  in  the  sight  of  God,  than  a  life  filled  with 
anxious,  conscientious,  laborious,  but  hesitating  and  imper- 
fect obedience.  lie  does  not  ask  much  of  us,  but  asks  that 
til  is  shall  be  right. 

I  saw  in  Overbcck's  studio,  in  the  Cenci  Palace  in  Rome, 
among  many  drawings  of  a  somewhat  conventional  char- 
acter, some  in  which  he  had  allowed  himself  to  follow 
Nature  rather  than  the  traditions  of  his  Catholic  masters. 
Among  these,  there  was  a  sketch  of  the  woman  who  brought 
her  two  mites  to  the  treasury  of  the  temple.  A  burly 
Pharisee  was  pressing  forward,  ostentatiously  emptying  his 
purse  into  the  opening  of  the  great  iron-bound  chest  on  the 
floor.  The  poor  woman,  with  two  darling  little  children 
clinging  to  her  and  hiding  their  faces  in  her  dress,  was 
modestly  reaching  forward  her  humble  gift.  On  the  other 
side  stood  Jesus,  with  his  disciples  near  him  ;  and,  half  turn- 
ing, with  a  smile  on  his  face,  he  seemed  to  say,  "  See  there, 
again,  what  I  have  told  you  so  often  !  It  is  not  the  gift,  but 
the  spirit  in  which  it  is  given,  that  makes  its  value.  She  has 
given  more  than  all  of  them."  Or,  as  Crashaw  has  versi- 
fied it, — 

"  Two  mites,  two  drops,  —  but  all  licr  house  and  land,  — 

Fell  from  an  earnest  heart,  but  trembling  hand. 

The  others'  wanton  wealth  foamed  high  and  brave ; 

Tlie  others  cast  away  :  she,  only,  gave." 

The  reward  for  being  faithful  in  small  things  is  the  oppor- 
tunity of  serving  God  in  things  of  more  importance.  Such 
is  t!i(^  divine  law.  He  who  has  made  himself  ready,  and  has 
put  on  the  wedding-garment,  may  go  into  the  marriage-feast 
of  truth  and  love.  He  who  has  strengthened,  by  diligence, 
his  powers  of  soul  here,  shall  have  opportunity,  ample  and 


FAITHFUL  OVER  A  FEW  THINGS.         63 

grand,  of  using  them  there.  This  life  is,  in  one  sense,  all 
preliminary  and  provisional.  We  are  in  a  studio  of  the 
great  Artist,  and  he  gives  us  little  pieces  of  clay  to  model. 
One  may  have  a  better  piece  than  another  ;  but  when  the 
Artist  comes,  and  looks  at  the  work,  he  does  not  think  of  the 
quality  and  size  of  the  clay,  but  of  the  skill,  patience,  and 
fidelity  displayed  on  it. 

I  have  heard  many  definitions  of  "  art ;  "  but  I  know,  on 
the  whole,  no  better  one  than  this,  —  to  do  faithfully  what 
we  do.  Anything  done  perfectly  well  becomes  a  work  of 
art.  Anything  finished  thoroughly  in  all  its  details  affects 
the  mind  as  art ;  and  any  high  or  beautiful  work  thoroughly 
done  becomes  fine  art.  It  is  the  perfect  finish  of  poetry,  the 
exact  proportion  of  architecture,  the  regular  modulation  of 
music,  the  delicate  precision  of  painting  and  sculpture,  which 
makes  them  all  works  of  art.  Anything  which  can  be  done 
in  a  slovenly  way,  where  a  little  more  or  less  makes  no  dif- 
ference, is  not  art.  Shovelling  gravel,  or  digging  potatoes, 
cannot  be  carried  to  that  precision,  and  so  cannot  become 
works  of  art. 

But  life  becomes  a  work  of  art  when  it  is  all  directed  to 
one  aim,  all  arranged  according  to  a  plan,  and  all  thoroughly 
executed.  Christianity  alone  can  make  life  high  art,  because 
it  alone  fulfils  these  conditions.  It  gives  high  aim  to  all  our 
activity,  fills  it  with  a  noble  spirit,  and  teaches  us  to  execute 
it  thoroughly  and  perfectly. 

It  is  a  grand  and  glorious  truth  that  is  taught  in  our  text. 
Let  us  only  be  genuine,  honest,  true,  in  anything,  however 
small,  and  we  have  in  that  the  sign  and  pledge  of  an  entire 
consecration  of  heart  and  life  to  God.  He  who  is  able  to 
deny  himself  the  least  pleasure  from  a  simple  sense  of  duty 
has  in  him  the  spirit  which  would  enable  him,  if  the  neces- 
sity came,  "  to  give  his  body  to  be  burned."  He  who  feels 
the  least  throb  of  genuine,  sincere  love  for  his  fellow-crea- 
tures has  the  spirit  born  in  his  soul  which  would  make  him 


CA  FAITHFUL   OVER    A    FEW    THINGS. 

equal  to  all  generosities  and  philanthropies,  if  these  should 
be  called  for.  He  who  fulfils  his  duty  well  in  any  sphere  is 
preparing  himself  for  the  highest.  What  does  it  matter  to 
God  what  material  we  work  in?  We  are  his  journeymen, 
his  apprentices,  learning  our  trade  in  his  workshop  of  life. 
He  gives  one  a  piece  of  common  Avood,  another  a  piece  of 
mahogany,  another  of  ivory,  to  try  his  skill  on  ;  but  he  looks 
not  at  the  material,  but  sees  how  we  have  done  our  work. 

So  it  is.  A  single  act  of  genuine,  sincere,  thorough-going 
fidelity  raises  us  at  once  to  a  higher  plane  ;  and  our  whole 
life  proceeds  henceforth  by  a  nobler,  manlier  measure.  We 
have  seen  many  instances  of  this.  We  have  known  men 
make  what  seemed  a  hard  sacrifice  for  duty  :  but,  after  that 
hour,  their  mind,  heart,  and  whole  nature  were  elevated  and 
ennobled  ;  they  were  henceforth  new  creatures.  A  genuine 
good  action  has  a  transforming  efficacy  on  the  character. 
We  are  not  the  same  men  afterwards  as  before.  Pray  for 
the  opportunity  of  doing  such  an  act ;  pray  for  the  chance 
of  making  some  great  sacrifice  ;  or,  rather,  find  such  an 
opportunity  for  yourself.  Look  for  it,  for  it  is  very  nigh 
thee  now  ;  for  angel-opportunities  come  to  us  every  day,  and 
we  entertain  them  unawares. 

Sometimes  I  meet  with  people  weary  of  life  :  they  think 
they  have  nothing  to  live  for,  nothing  to  do  in  the  world, 
nothing  to  enjoy  ;  they  have  lost  their  interest  in  everything, 
and  the  world  is  to  them  a  thrice-told  tale.  They  think  they 
wish  to  die.  They  are  mistaken  :  they  wish  to  live.  They 
think  they  wish  to  go  away  from  mankind.  They  are  mis- 
taken :  they  wish  to  come  near  them.  Those  are  most 
weary  who  do  not  know  this  ;  Avho  have  been  trying  to  gain, 
not  to  give  ;  who  do  not  taste  the  bliss  of  bounty ;  w  ho  do 
not  pour  out  their  life  on  others,  to  have  it  given  back  again, 
fidl  measure,  pressed  down,  and  running  over,  into  their 
bosoms. 


FAITHFUL   OVER   A    FEW   THINGS.  65 

**  Two  hands  upon  the  breast, 
And  Labor's  done ; 
Two  pule  feet  crossed  in  rest, 

The  race  is  won ; 
Two  eyes  with  coin-weights  shut. 

And  all  tears  cease ; 
Two  lips  where  grief  is  mute. 
And  wrath  and  peace  : 
So  pray  we  oftentimes,  mourning  our  lot; 
God,  in  his  kindness,  answereth  not. 

"  Two  hands  to  work  addressed,  » 

Aye  for  his  praise  ; 
Two  feet,  that  never  rest. 

Walking  his  ways ; 
Two  eyes  that  look  above 
Still  through  all  tears  ; 
Two  lips  that  breathe  but  love. 
Nevermore  fears  : 
So  cry  we  afterwards,  low  on  our  knees : 
Pardon  those  erring  prayers !   Father,  hear  these ! " 
5 


YII. 

MORAL  PERSPECTIVES. 
Matt,   xxiii.   23:    "Ye   pay   titiik   of   mint,   anise,    and   cumin; 

AND  HAVE  OMITTED  THE  WEIGHTIER  MATTERS  OF  THE  LAW,  — 
JUDGMENT,  MERCY,  AND  FAITH." 

WHOEVER  has  noticed  a  china  plate  will  have  ob- 
served that,  with  all  its  economic  merits,  it  has  grave 
defects  as  a  work  of  art.  The  chief  of  these  consists  in  an 
entire  absence  of  what  we  call  perspective.  The  house  in 
the  fore^-round  is  no  lari^er  than  that  in  the  extreme  dis- 
tance.  The  water-fowl  several  miles  off  are  as  large  as  the 
little  children  close  by.  The  Chinese  have  not  yet  learned 
to  discriminate,  in  their  work,  the  effects  of  distance  on  the 
size  of  objects,  their  forms,  and  their  color.  That  department 
of  art  known  as  perspective  they  have  not  yet  attained  ;  but  it 
is  a  very  important  one.  I  recollect  that  Hogarth  has  a 
picture  in  which  he  represents  some  of  the  absurdities  re- 
sulting from  ignorance  of  the  laws  of  perspective.  A  woman, 
leaning  out  of  a  window,  is  lighting  her  candle  at  a  fire  on  a 
distant  hill.  A  flock  of  sheep,  going  up  the  road,  grow 
larger  as  they  recede  ;  and  a  horse  in  the  foreground  is 
somewhat  smaller  than  a  man  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off. 

Now,  there  are  in  the  w^orld  of  thought  and  action  certain 
laws  analogous  to  those  in  the  domain  of  art,  forming  wiiat 
we  may  call  moral  perspective.  Some  men's  thoughts,  for 
example,  obey  these  laws  ;  and  we  call  tliese  men  sagacious 
and  wise.     They  recognize  what  is  near  and  what  is  distant. 

(OC.) 


MORAL   PERSPECTIVES.  67 

They  see  what  is  practically  important,  and  what  not.  A 
merchant  once  told  me  that  the  secret  of  success  in  business 
was  to  know  what  thing  ought  to  be  done  first,  and  what 
should  be  postponed.  You  are  listening  to  a  trial  in  a  court 
of  law.  Obscure  and  conflicting  testimony  has  confused  the 
case.  A  great  lawyer  rises,  and  all  that  he  does  is  to  call 
the  attention  of  the  court  and  the  jury  to  the  important 
points  in  the  case.  He  brings  these  out  in  a  clear  light,  and 
places  them  in  the  foreground ;  letting  secondary  matters 
recede  into  the  middle  distance,  and  unimportant  ones  disap- 
pear in  the  background.  He  has  made  a  great  and  success- 
ful argument  simply  by  applying  the  laws  of  perspective  to 
the*  matter  in  hand. 

So  it  is  with  the  great  statesman,  politician,  essayist,  or 
writer  in  any  department  of  literature.  So  it  is  in  all  prac- 
tical life.  The  great  general  is  he  who  sees  the  pivotal 
points  of  the  campaign  or  the  battle ;  who  is  strong  on  these, 
not  confused  by  the  multitude  of  details.  This  is  always 
one  of  the  secrets  of  success. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  feel  at  once  the  absence  of  intel- 
lectual perspective  in  a  book  or  a  man.  The  book  is  unin- 
teresting because  it  has  no  method,  no  progress,  no  leading 
thoughts,  no  beginning,  middle,  or  end.  The  man  is  tire- 
some in  whose  conversation  all  things  are  of  equal  impor- 
tance ;  who  emphasizes  equally  the  gossip  of  the  street  and 
the  crisis  of  a  nation.  The  minds  of  some  men  are  like 
Alpine  scenery,  where  vast  mountains,  piercing  the  sky  with 
snowy  peaks,  alternate  with  valleys  whose  falling  waters, 
green  meadows,  and  luxury  of  foliage,  make  marvellous  con- 
trasts with  the  terrific  scenes  above.  But  other  minds  are 
like  the  dead  level,  in  which  the  monotonous  outline  and  stag- 
nant waters  make  a  dreary  waste,  dull  and  flat  and  empty. 

These  laws  of  perspective  also  apply  to  the  moral  world, 
to  good  and  bad,  to  right  and  wrong.  It  is  of  this  that  I 
wish  chiefly  to  speak. 


GS  MORAL   PERSPECTIVES. 

The  text  tells  us  that  the  Pharisees  had  no  perception  of 
moral  perspective.  They  went  beyond  the  Chinese  plate, 
and  reached  the  absurdity  of  Hogarth's  picture.  The  tith- 
ing of  mint  was  not  only  as  important  as  justice,  but  more 
so.  It  hid  it  entirely.  Their  picture  was  all  a  foreground, 
filled  with  ritual  observances  ;  and  all  the  higher  duties  were 
omitted  or  forgotten.  The  little  ceremonies  in  front  eclipsed 
the  great  duties  behind. 

One  of  the  most  common  diseases  of  the  conscience  is  this 
want  of  perspective,  —  this  confusion  of  duties  small  and 
large,  near  and  distant,  important  and  insignificant,  primary 
and  subordinate.  It  is  the  state  which  the  apostle  Paul 
defines  as  a  "  weak  conscience."  The  Corinthian  Christians 
shrank  with  horror  from  the  idea  of  eating  meat  offered  to 
idols :  but  they  were  sectarian,  and  quarrelled  about  reli- 
gious opinions,  —  one  saying,  "I  am  of  Paul ;"  and  another, 
"  I  am  of  Apollos."  They  were  exclusive  and  aristocratic, 
and  could  not  eat  together  at  the  Lord's  Supper,  but  sat  apart. 

Paul  respected  the  conscientiousness  even  of  a  weak  con- 
science, and  said,  that  though  an  idol  was  not  anything,  yet 
as  long  as  it  seemed  to  them  to  be  something,  and  they  were 
conscientious  about  it,  they  ought  not  to  eat  the  meat  offered 
to  idols,  lest  "  their  weak  conscience  should  be  defiled." 
And  so,  now,  people  observe  days  and  times,  and  consider  it 
a  sin  to  take  a  walk  on  Sunday,  or  for  little  children  to 
enjoy  themselves.  They  think  it  is  a  very  dangerous  thing 
to  doubt  concerning  the  Trinity,  or  to  question  total  depravi- 
ty, but  no  sin  at  all  to  buy  and  sell  little  children,  to  tear 
husbands  from  wives,  and  keep  back  the  hire  of  the  laborer 
who  has  reaped  their  fields.  It  is  no  sin,  they  think,  to  be 
grasping  and  sharp  and  mean  in  business  ;  no  sin  to  be  cen- 
sorious and  bitter  against  all  out  of  their  own  church  and 
party ;  but  a  dreadful  sin  to  go  to  a  church  which  does  not 
hold  the  opinions  they  happen  to  believe  themselves,  or  to 
think  they  believe. 


MORAL   PERSPECTIVES.  69 

A  great  many  people  are  unnecessarily  tormented  be- 
cause they  cannot  have  technical  evidence  of  their  conver- 
sion. They  torment  others  in  the  same  way.  If  they  would 
only  be  contented  with  Scripture  evidence,  how  happy  they 
would  be  !  Here  are  some  of  the  tests  of  true  religion  laid 
down  in  the  New  Testament :  — 

"  We  know  that  we  have  passed  from  death  to  life,  be- 
cause we  love  the  brethren." 

"  If  any  man  believe  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ,  God  dwells 
in  him,  and  he  in  God." 

"  He  that  loveth  is  born  of  God." 

"  He  that  dwelleth  in  love  dwelleth  in  God,  and  God  in 
him." 

"  If  we  confess  our  sins,  he  is  faithful  and  just  to  forgive 
us  our  sins,  and  to  cleanse  us  from  all  unrighteousness." 

Now,  is  it  not  strange,  that,  with  such  passages  as  these 
before  their  eyes,  people  shall  still  insist  that  to  be  baptized, 
or  not  to  be,  makes  the  difference  between  salvation  and 
damnation?  Thus  speaks  Frederick  W.  Robertson,  the 
wise  Church  of  England  minister,  concerning  this  Church  of 
England  superstition  :  "  The  superstitious  mother  baptizes 
her  child  in  haste,  because,  though  she  does  not  precisely 
know  what  the  mystic  effect  of  baptism  is,  she  thinks  it  best 
to  be  on  the  safer  side,  lest  her  child  should  die,  and  its  eter- 
nity should  be  decided  by  the  omission.  And  we  go  to 
preach  to  the  iTeathen,  while  there  are  men  and  women  in 
our  Christian  England  so  bewildered  with  systems  and  ser- 
mons, so  profoundly  in  the  dark  respecting  the  Father  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  so  utterly  unable  to  repose  in  Eternal 
Love  and  Justice,  that  they  must  guard  their  child /ro?>2  him 
by  a  ceremony,  and  have  the  shadow  of  a  shade  of  doubt, 
whether,  or  not,  for  omission  of  theirs,  that  child's  Creator 
and  Father  may  curse  its  soul  for  all  eternity." 

One  English  writer,  who  encourages  this  superstition,  is 
Miss  Yonge,  the  author  of  many  excellent  books  for  children 


70  MORAL   PERSPECTIVES. 

and  young  people.  Her  books  are  almost  always  sensible, 
wise,  and  Christian  ;  but  she  fails  in  this  point  of  moral  per- 
spective. She  represents  some  very  little  things  as  though 
they  were  very  large.  She  sometimes  intimates  that  it  is  a 
terrible  thiug  for  an  unbaptized  child  to  die  ;  tlms  making 
of  baptism  a  magical  charm  by  which  to  save  the  child's 
soul  I'rom  God.  She  does  not  exactly  say  that  an  unbap- 
tized child  will  be  lost ;  but  she  seems  afraid  that  it  may  be 
so.  She  thus  encourages  a  heathenish  superstition,  which 
neither  Clirist  nor  the  Bible  authorize.  The  Bible  speaks 
of  the  "  washing  of  regeneration,  and  renewing  of  the  Holy 
Ghost."  It  is  regeneration  which  washes  us,  not  washing 
which  regenerates  us.  The  object  of  Christian  baptism  is 
this  life,  and  not  the  other.  Baptism  is  an  introduction  into 
the  Christian  Church  in  this  world,  not  a  preparation  for  the 
next.  Miss  Yonge,  therefore,  reverses  the  true  view  of 
baptism  ;  and,  in  the  same  way,  she  represents  the  rite  of 
confirmation  as  so  important,  that  the  neglect  of  it  fills  her 
young  people  with  great  terror. 

A  little  child  was  dying  of  a  cruel  disease,  whose  only 
comfort  was  in  listening  to  reading.  They  were  reading  to 
her  out  of  a  book  called  "  Ministering  Children."  Her 
father  came  in,  and  proposed  to  read  to  her.  She  said,  "  I 
don't  wish  to  hear  that  book,  papa ;  take  the  other  one  on 
the  shelf."  Afterwards,  her  cousin  said  to  her,  *'  Why  did 
you  not  wish  to  hear  more  out  of  that  book?  Why  did  you 
ask  your  father  to  read  from  the  one  you  had  already  fin- 
ished?" "Because,"  said  the  dear  child,  "it  made  papa 
feel  badly  to  read  in  that  one  :  so  I  asked  him  to  read  from 
the  other." 

Now,  I  should  like  to  ask  Miss  Yonge,  whether,  if  this 
child,  who  forgot  her  own  suffering  to  spare  her  father  a 
pang  of  grief,  —  whether,  if  this  angelic  child  should  die 
Avithout  being  baptized,  God  would  not  receive  her?  That 
generous  love  in  her  little  patient  heart  would  make  her 


MORAL   PERSPECTIVES.  71 

dearer,  in  my  opinion,  to  the  heart  of  the  Saviour,  than  if 
she  had  been  baptized  by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
and  confirmed  by  tlie  Pope  of  Rome. 

The  other  day,  I  read  an  account  of  a  lady  who  went  to 
Corinth  to  look  for  her  husband,  after  the  great  battle 
there.  Searching,  she  found  his  body.  "  Now,"  says  the 
narrator,  "  if  I  were  writing  a  romance,  if  this  were  a  senti- 
mental story,  I  should  describe  how  she  sat  bathed  in  tears 
from  morning  till  evening,  unconscious  of  everything.  But 
it  is  better  than  a  romance  :  it  is  a  noble  reality.  So  the 
fact  was,  that,  after  shedding  some  natural  tears,  she  turned 
from  the  dead  body  of  her  husband  to  the  wounded  soldiers 
of  his  company  ;  and,  instead  of  indulging  sentimental  sor- 
row, she  found  comfort,  for  two  long  days,  in  taking  care 
of  the  wounded  and  dying." 

But  suppose  that  this  lady  had  never  passed  through  any 
technical  conversion  :  could  she  possibly  have  any  better 
evidence  of  God's  love  in  her  soul  than  that  which  helped 
her  to  leave  her  own  sorrows  to  care  for  others'  woe  ?  God's 
life  was  in  her  heart  then^  if  never  before  or  after.  She  was 
born  ^gain  at  that  time,  because  she  loved  the  brethren. 

Yet  many  people  forget  all  that  Christ  has  said  of  obedi- 
ence, humility,  and  love  being  the  essence  of  religion,  and 
place  this  in  some  opinion,  some  ceremony,  belonging  to 
some  church,  adhering  to  some  religious  usages.  To  Jesus, 
life,  a  holy  life,  is  the  one  thing  needful.  To  them,  profes- 
sion, ritual,  emotion,  conformity,  are  much  higher. 

AVhat  shall  we  say  of  such  persons?  Only  this:  That 
their  consciences  are  weak  consciences,  and  have  no  sense 
of  spiritual  perspective.  If  their  opinions  concerning  re- 
ligion and  morals  were  put  into  a  picture,  it  would  be  like 
the  picture  on  a  Chinese  plate. 

Much  harm  is  done  in  these  ways.  Much  harm  also  is 
done  by  a  confusion  of  great  and  small  in  regard  to  common 
duties  and  common  faults.     People  make  sins  out  of  mis- 


72  MORAL   PERSPECTIVES. 

takes,  and  grave  crimes  out  of  pardonable  errors.  Children 
are  taught,  that  to  break  a  dish  is  as  wrong  as  to  tell  a  lie, 
by  the  indignation  the  mother  shows  when  that  accident 
occurs.  No  doubt,  it  is  inconvenient  to  you  to  have  your 
best  cup  or  glass  dropped  and  broken  ;  but,  if  you  show  a 
high  indignation  at  what  is  at  worst  carelessness,  what  will 
you  do  when  your  child  commits  a  serious  offence  ?  Your 
child  has  torn  its  clothes,  or  soiled  them  in  playing  in  the 
dirt.  Now,  this  is,  no  doubt,  a  bad  thing  for  you  who  have 
to  mend  them  ;  but  you  have  no  right  to  treat  it  with  the 
same  gravity  as  though  it  were  an  act  of  cruelty,  falsehood, 
or  selfishness.  You  sophisticate  your  child's  conscience  in 
doing  so.  Or,  if  the  child's  sense  of  justice  is  too  clear  to  be 
sophisticated,  then  you  destroy  your  own  influence.  Treat 
such  things  as  misfortunes,  not  as  sins.  Let  them  have  their 
evil  consequences'  if  you  choose.  Say  to  the  child,  "  How 
sorry  I  am  that  you  have  torn  your  frock !  Now,  I  don't 
know  what  we  shall  do.  I  am  afraid  you  cannot  go  to  the 
picnic."  But  do  not  say,  "  O,  what  a  naughty  child  I  How 
could  you  do  iti*     You  shall  not  go  to  the  picnic." 

We  are  very  apt  to  make  great  sins  out  of  what  only  hap- 
pens to  be  troublesome  to  ourselves.  Remember,  when  you 
do  this,  that  you,  are  confusing  the  moral  sense.  Grave, 
austere  reproach  and  solemn  rebuke  are  precious,  and  should 
be  kept  for  great  occasions.  Do  not  waste  them  on  small 
matters.  They  ought  not  to  be  used  in  a  family  or  in  a 
school  more  than  a  few  times  in  a  year.  By  applying  them 
every  day,  we  destroy  their  effect.  Treat  small  matters 
lightly,  troublesome  mistakes  cheerfully ;  and  use  stern  and 
severe  reproach  and  censure  only  for  real  sins.  Then  your 
censure  will  be  remembered  as  long  as  your  child  lives. 

One  of  the  great  advantages  of  true  religion  is,  that  it 
gives  this  perspective  to  life.  A  religious  person,  laying  all 
stress  on  the  essential  vital  facts  of  the  soul,  is  able  to  look 
with  proper  allowance  and  cliarity  on  the  smaller  faults  of 


MORAL  PERSPECTIVES.  73 

men.  To  him  there  is  "  one  tiling  needful ;  "  one  only.  To 
him  all  virtue,  all  duty,  is  briefly  comprehended  in  this  one 
thing,  —  Love.  As,  by  a  law  of  perspective,  all  the  lines 
of  the  picture  perpendicular  to  its  surface  have  the  same 
vanishing-point ;  so  all  the  lines  of  duty,  being  parallel, 
converge  to  this  point  of  love,  which  is  always  before  the 
Christian  eye  ;  and  are  all  fulfilled  in  that.  This  constant 
conviction  of  the  supremacy  of  love  gives  unity  to  thought 
and  life,  —  gives  a  tone  of  united  earnestness  and  charity  to 
all  judgments  and  all  appeals. 

I  was  reading,  this  week,  a  recent  book  by  a  very  intelli- 
gent Englishmen,  Arthur  Helps  ;  in  which  I  noticed  the 
want  of  moral  perspective  in  his  judgment  of  the  present 
American  crisis.  He  says  that  the  English  would  have 
sympathized  with  the  Union  in  its  present  distress,  had  it 
not  been  that  "  Americans  were  such  a  boastful  people." 
And  so,  because  we  have  this  fault,  which  is  offensive  to  the 
good  taste  of  our  polished  English  neighbors,  they  cannot 
take  any  interest  in  a  great  struggle  on  which  is  staked  the 
triumph  of  slavery  or  of  freedom,  the  salvation  or  the  de- 
struction of  a  great  Republic !  Because  Americans  boast, 
and  chew  tobacco,  and  eat  with  their  knives,  therefore  the 
English  will  not  care  for  the  defeat  or  the  triumph  of  right, 
liberty,  and  humanity  !  Is  not  this  tithing  mint,  and  forget- 
ting justice? 

In  the  same  way,  among  ourselves,  in  the  struggle  of  great 
principles,  in  the  conflict  of  mighty  ideas,  men  allow  them- 
selves to  take  one  side  or  the  other  because  of  some  petty 
partiality  or  prejudice.  "  This  man  is  distasteful  to  me  :  so 
I  will  not  stand  by  him  in  contending  for  the  right."  "  That 
man  is,  I  think,  influenced  by  personal  ambition  or  interest : 
therefore  I  will  not  help  him  to  fight  the  battle  for  truth  and 
justice."  "  These  people  are  not  to  my  taste :  so,  though 
God  is  with  them,  I  will  go  against  them."  God,  fortunate- 
ly, is  not  so  fastidious  ;  and  he  stands  by  his  oppressed,  his 


74  MORAL   PERSPECTIVES. 

poor,  his  despised  ones,  though  they  may  be  Jews  defiled 
"with  leprosy,  or  Africans  with  big  lips  and  crooked  legs. 

All  great  souls  rise  above  this  petty  Chinese  narrowness. 
Before  all  noble  minds,  everything  in  the  picture  of  life 
assumes  its  proper  proportions.  Primary  duties,  mighty 
truths,  the  master-lights  of  our  being,  the  essential  vital 
essences  of  things,  come  forward  into  the  foreground,  and 
occupy  the  chief  and  constant  interest.  Back  into  the  mid- 
dle distance  fall  the  minor  interests  and  lesser  duties  ;  and 
into  the  shadowy  background,  where  the  soft  aerial  tints 
melt  the  outlines  into  ineffable  beauty,  and  blend  sky  and 
land  in  one  sweet  flood  of  happy  light,  pass  all  the  remoter 
interests  of  life  ;  on  to  the  distant  horizon-line,  where  heaven 
and  earth  become  one.  This  is  true  greatness  of  soul,  —  to 
recognize  the  relate  proportions  of  all  truths,  all  duties,  and 
all  interests.  When  we  meet  persons  thinking  so,  in  what- 
ever society  or  condition  of  culture,  we  feel  respect  for  them. 
We  draw  near  to  them.  They  do  us  good.  In  all  that  they 
say,  we  feel  the  presence  of  serious  things.  We  see  that 
their  life  is  earnest.  They  talk  of  what  is  important.  They 
do  not  gossip  about  trifles,  or  dispute  about  insignificant  mat- 
ters. They  make  life  seem  worth  living ;  they  add  interest 
to  every  hour.  As  they  speak,  our  heart  burns  within  us  ; 
and,  though  they  may  not  talk  in  sanctimonious  phrase  of 
religious  subjects,  we  feel  the  profound  religion  which  has 
its  home  in  their  souls  ;  and  so  they  bring  us  nearer  to  God, 
to  immortality,  and  to  heaven. 

Nearer  to  heaven  ;  for  heaven,  too,  has  its  perspective 
laws.  To  us,  living  in  a  little  point  of  time,  on  a  little  spot 
of  space,  heavenly  things,  as  well  as  earthly  things,  must  be 
seen,  not  as  they  really  are,  but  as  the  laws  of  optics  require. 
Tlie  heavens  bend  around  us,  and  touch  the  earth,  —  a  dome 
of  deep  azure  by  day,  a  dome  of  stars  by  night.  But  this  is 
only  appearance.  Tiie  heavens  everywhere  extend  into  in- 
finite distances,   unbent  and  uniform.      Before  a  north-east 


MORAL   PERSPECTIVES.  75 

storm,  the  clouds  form  themselves  into  great  fan-like  diver- 
ging masses,  rising  from  the  north-east  and  south-west  points 
of  the  sky.  Tlie  vast  auroral  columns  of  fire,  shooting 
towards  their  vanishing-point  in  the  zenith  above,  seem 
converging  to  a  point  there.  But  this  is  all  a  perspective 
illusion.  The  clouds  which  seem  to  converge  are  parallel ; 
the  auroral  streamers  which  seem  to  converge  are  parallel : 
they  only  seem  to  converge  and  to  bend. 

And  so  the  lines  of  love,  which  run  parallel  in  this  world, 
seem  to  have  their  vanishing-point  in  death.  The  cloudy 
and  fiery  pillars  of  Divine  Providence  seem  to  vanish  in  dis- 
aster and  evil.  The  progress  of  truth,  justice,  and  humanity, 
appears  to  vanish  in  the  triumph  of  evil  and  wrong.  But  all 
this  is  only  apparent.  This  is  the  perspective  efi^ect  of  our 
short-sighted  vision.  Loving  hearts  shall  go  on  side  by  side 
forever.  Truth  and  justice  shall  move  forward  on  their  vast 
orbits  through  all  space.  Good  shall  be  triumphant  over 
evil,  right  over  wrong,  peace  over  war ;  and  all  things  in 
heaven  and  earth  shall  work  for  good  to  those  who  love 
God. 


VIII. 

•*IF  HE   SLEEP,   HE   SHALL  DO   WELL." 
John  xii.  12  :  "  Lord,  if  he  sleep,  he  shall  do  well." 

IT  is  curious  how  large  a  part  of  every  man's  life  is  passed 
in  sleep ;  more  than  a  quarter  of  it ;  probably,  on  an 
average,  a  third.  So  that,  if  a  man  lives  to  be  seventy,  he 
has  slept  for  more  than  twenty  years.  He  has  slept  as  long 
as  Rip  Van  Winkle,  only  not  all  at  once.  No  matter  how 
industrious,  how  active,  how  ambitious,  how  full  of  enthu- 
siasm for  what  he  has  to  do ;  after  every  few  hours  he  be- 
comes unconscious  of  all  these  vivid  purposes,  and  drops 
away  into  entire  indifference  and  ignorance  of  them  all. 
People  may  be  as  different  as  you  please  iii  character,  taste, 
temper ;  but  they  must  all  sleep  six  hours  out  of  the  twenty- 
four.  The  rapt  saint,  just  caught  up  into  the  seventh  heaven 
in  an  ecstasy  of  prayer,  comes  back  to  earth,  and  goes  to 
bed,  and  falls  into  some  foolish  dream.  The  most  virtuous 
man  in  Boston,  and  the  coarsest  criminal  in  the  penitentiary, 
at  one  o'clock  to-night  will  be  equalized  in  sleep ;  the  good 
man  having  subsided  into  a  merely  passive  and  negative  vir- 
tue, and  the  sinner  returned  for  a  few  hours  to  the  innocence 
of  childhood.  Newton,  just  about  to  discover  the  great  secret 
of  the  universe  ;  Shakspeare,  with  "  Hamlet"  half  written  ; 
Milton,  with  the  music  of  paradise  half  sung;  StcpheuSon, 
with  the  locomotive  almost  invented ;  Lord  Bacon,  with  tlic 
*'  Novum  Organon  "  nearly  thought  out ;  Raffaelle,  with  the 
final   touch   which  is  to  charm   the  world  in   the  Dresden 

(70) 


"  IP   HE    SLEEP,   HE   SHALL   DO   WELL."  77 

"  Madonna "  not  yet  added,  —  must  all  go  to  sleep,  and 
lose  for  six  hours  all  consciousness  of  their  great  work  and 
mission. 

It  seems  a  great  loss. 

Even  the  earth  needs  to  go  to  sleep  once  a  year.  The 
earth  around  us,  so  full  of  activity  and  life  a  little  while  ago, 
folds  its  arms  over  its  bosom,  and  sleeps  the  dreamless  sleep 
of  winter.  The  trees,  which  lately  shook  their  multitude  of 
leaves  in  the  warm  air,  made  sweet  music  in  the  rapid 
breeze,  and  lashed  their  branches  angrily  in  the  summer 
storm,  now  stand  with  all  their  life  gone  to  sleep  in  their 
roots.  But,  amid  this  winter  sleep,  Nature  is  nursing  her 
powers,  and  re-collecting  her  forces,  and  preparing  to  come 
forth  anew  in  full  and  varied  life  with  the  next  year.  It 
seems  like  death  ;  but  it  is  only  sleep.  Had  we  never  seen 
a  spring,  we  should  say  that  it  was  quite  impossible  for  this 
dead  grass  ever  to  revive  ;  for  these  cold,  clattering  branches 
to  be  covered  again  with  tender,  delicate  leaves  ;  for  new 
blossoms  and  flowers  to  hang  tender  and  fragrant  on  bush 
and  tree ;  for  the  children  to  go  out  again,  and  gather  sweet 
fruits  and  berries  from  these  dried-up  and  withered  sticks. 
But  as  what  seems  like  death  in  nature  is  only  sleep  ;  so  that 
which  we  call  death,  Jesus  called  sleep. 

Did  you  ever  stand  by  night  on  a  housetop,  looking  down 
upon  the  roofs  of  a  sleeping  city?  Here  and  there,  a  light 
shows  where  men  are  still  awake,  —  some  immersed  in 
study ;  some  lonely  watchers  by  the  bed  of  pain  or  death  ; 
some  in  gay,  protracted  revelry  ;  some  obliged  by  poverty  to 
cheat  the  body  of  its  needed  rest  to  supply  food  and  clothing 
to  starving  children.  All  the  rest  of  the  vast  population 
sleeps.  From  every  height  of  wisdom  and  holiness  they 
have  gone  down,  from  every  depth  of  passion  or  sin  they 
have  come  up,  to  this  tranquil,  neutral  land  of  peaceful 
repose.  The  transcendental  philosopher,  who  has  been,  in 
his  lamp-lit  cell,  fathoming  the  last  mysteries  of  being  for 


78  "  IF   HE   SLEEP,    HE   SHALL   DO   WELL." 

his  admiring  disciples ;  the  sublime  poet,  who  has  been 
■weaving,  with  a  smile,  a  talc  of  woe  ;  the  preacher,  who 
has  finished  his  best  sermon  for  to-morrow  ;  the  orator,  who 
has  committed  to  memory  the  last  fiery  paragraph  of  the 
speech  which  is  to  shake  a  nation's  soul,  —  these  have  all 
gone  down  into  that  unconscious  sphere,  the  only  sphere  of 
real  democratic  equality.  There  they  lie,  side  by  side,  with 
the  burglar,  who  has  arranged  his  plans  for  robbing  his 
neighbor's  house  ;  the  disloyal  editor,  who  has  finished  the 
paragraph  which  is  another  stab  of  his  poisoned  dagger  at 
the  heart  of  Iws  struggling,  tormented  mother-land ;  the 
drunken  child  of  sin  and  shame  ;  the  worldly  man  or  wo- 
man, planning  poor  triumphs  of  a  selfish  success.  They 
sleep  beneath  the  kind  curtains  of  night,  beneath  the  watch- 
ful stars  encamped  in  the  heavens  above,  beneath  God's 
ever-open  eye.  All  seem  to  sleep  the  same  sweet,  dreamless 
sleep  of  the  just,  —  the  innocent  children  in  the  dormitory 
of  that  convent-school,  the  two  hundred  prisoners  in  the  jail 
near  by. 

And,  "  if  they  sleep,  they  shall  do  well." 

Tlic  words  were  true  in  a  deeper  sense  than  the  disciples 
thought.  It  was  a  saijacious  remark  in  that  sense.  "  Noth- 
ing,"  say  the  works  on  physiology,  "  is  so  refreshing  during 
sickness,  or  so  conducive  to  rapid  convalescence,  as  quiet 
sleep."  Balmy  sleep  is  kind  Nature's  sweet  restorer.  It 
serves  to  equalize  all  the  functions  of  the  frame,  distributing 
the  vital  power  to  all  parts,  repairing  all  damages  in  the 
delicate  machinery  of  the  body  ;  so  that,  when  the  will- 
power is  put  on  again  in  the  morning,  it  may  go  to  work  as 
before.  Perhaps  Nature  goes  on  the  maxim,  that  "  a  stitch 
in  time  saves  nine,"  and  mends  up  all  the  little  microscopic 
lesi(»us  in  her  tender  tissues  before  they  attain  the  dignity 
and  danger  of  a  case  for  the  doctors. 

Wliat  is  sleep?  Nobody  knows.  One  essential  charac- 
ter, however,  of  sleep,  is,  I  think,  the   suspension  of  will. 


"  IF   HE   SLEEP,    HE    SHALL   DO    WELL."  79 

Man  ceases  to  be  active,  he  becomes  passive,  in  sleep.  All 
the  operations  iadepeadcut  of  will  go  on  ;  as  respiration, 
circulation,  digestion,  and  the  like.  All  that  depend  on  the 
will,  as  attention,  perception,  direction,  and  management  of 
thought,  control  of  muscles,  are  suspended.  Man,  while 
awake,  is  always  in  a  state  of  active  will.  We  do  not  know 
it  perhaps,  but,  when  we  stand  still,  we  are  holding  our- 
selves up.  We  are  not  merely  seeing  and  hearing,  but  lis- 
tening and  looking,  all  the  time  ;  we  are  always  holding  our 
thoughts,  and  guiding  them.  When  we  fall  asleep,  it  is  by 
gradually  letting  off  the  control  of  will  from  body  and  mind  ; 
and,  if  you  ever  noticed  yourself  just  when  you  were  falling 
asleep,  you  will  have  observed  that  you  took  off  the  directing 
power  from  your  thoughts,  and  let  them  go  where  they  would. 
So  they  begin  to  move  of  themselves,  by  their  own  associa- 
tions ;  and  at  last  you  begin  to  dream.  Meantime,  as  the 
active  power  ceases,  the  passive  and  automatic  powers  go 
on  more  energetically.  The  breathing  becomes  fuller  and 
deeper,  as  we  can  notice.  The  nutritive  operations  arc  so 
intensified,  that  most  physiologists  say  that  all  nutrition  takes 
place  in  sleep.  The  body,  indeed,  becomes  a  little  colder 
in  sleep ;  but  that  is  because,  the  activity  being  suspended 
through  body  and  mind,  there  is  no  such  consumption  of  fuel 
required  in  the  lungs,  and  a  small  fire  is  kept  up  there. 

Therefore,  as  to  the  body  of  a  man,  "if  he  sleep,  he  shall 
do  well."  Sleep  comes  as  a  physician  and  inspector-general, 
and  examines  the  w^iole  body  all  through,  and  repairs  and 
renews  it.  We  make  a  mistake  in  trying  to  do  without  sleep, 
as  students  and  scholars  do  sometimes.  Work  as  hard  as 
you  can,  provided  you  can  sleep  hard  too.  An  eminent 
preacher  once  gave  me  an  account  of  his  v/ay  of  doing  so 
much  mental  work,  and  his  method  in  writing  sermons ;  and 
he  concluded  by  saying,  that  a  great  deal  of  it  was  done  by 
good  hard  sleeping.  Said  he,  "  I  sleep  as  much  as  I  can 
every  night ;  for  I  am  persuaded,  that,  if  the  preacher  does 


80  "  IF   HE   SLEEP,    HE   SHALL   DO   WELL." 

not  sleep  duriug  the  week,  the  congregation  will  sleep  on 
Sunday."  And  I  think  he  was  right.  I  think  it  is  partly 
the  preacher's  fault  if  the  congregation  sleep  at  church  ;  for 
how  quickly  we  rouse  up  when  anything  is  said  which  is  real 
and  vital !  A  clap  of  thunder  will  not  stir  a  man  so  quickly 
as  an  arrow  of  thought  shot  directly  into  his  conscience  and 
heart.  Partly  the  preacher's  fault,  therefore,  but  not  wholly  ; 
partly  it  is  the  architect's  fault,  who  has  not  ventilated  the 
church  ;  and  partly  it  is  no  one's  fault.  A  minister  said  to 
me  the  other  day,  that  when  he  preached  in  the  country,  and 
saw  the  farmers,  who  had  worked  in  the  open  air  all  day 
during  the  week  in  their  shirts,  come  and  sit,  dressed  in  thick 
cloth,  in  a  hot  church  on  Sunday,  he  was  pleased  to  see  them 
dropping  asleep,  and  getting  a  little  nap  ;  "  forty  winks  of 
sleep,"  as  Napoleon  used  to  say  ;  and  then  waking  up  bright, 
and  ready  to  listen  again.  Dean  Swift  once  preached  a  ser- 
mon on  the  text  in  Acts,  where  it  is  stated  that  there  were 
many  lights  in  the  upper  chamber  where  the  disciples  were 
gathered,  and  that  '•  there  sat  in  a  window  a  certain  young 
man  named  Eutychus,  being  fallen  into  a  deep  sleep  ;  and, 
as  Paul  was  long  preaching,  he  sunk  down  with  sleep,  and 
fell  from  the  third  loft,  and  was  taken  up  dead."  Dean  Swift 
begins  his  sermon  by  saying,  Tlie  fate  of  this  young  man 
does  not  seem  to  have  been  a  warning  to  his  successors  who 
go  to  sleep  in  church  ;  except  in  this,  that  they  choose  safer 
places  in  which  to  indulge  themselves  ;  and,  instead  of  sitting 
in  the  window,  they  compose  themselves  more  comfortably  in 
the  corners  of  the  pews. 

But  the  dean  might  have  bethought  himself  that  this  text 
was  as  much  to  the  address  of  the  preacher  of  long  sermons 
as  to  the  sleepy  hearer  ;  and  that,  if  Eutychus  could  not  keep 
iiimself  awake  even  to  hear  Paul,  there  must  iuive  been  some 
physical  cause  for  his  drowsiness  :  probably  his  being  in  the 
upper  part  of  the  room,  where  the  bad  air  from  the  people 
aud  the  lights  was  collected. 


"  IP   HE   SLEEP,   HE   SHALL   DO   WELL."  81 

But  sleep  rests  mind  as  well  as  body.  Sleep  rests  the  con- 
science and  the  will.  The  sense  of  responsibility  reposes  in 
sleep  ;  and  we  sometimes  do  in  our  dreams  the  wickedest 
actions,  without  feeling  any  remorse. 

There  are  mysterious  blessings  also  attending  sleep.  We 
wake  with  better,  wiser  thoughts.  We  wake  from  good  sleep 
with  a  more  loving  heart.  So  God  sent  a  deep  sleep  upon 
Adam,  and  out  of  it  came  Eve.  Inspiration  comes  in  sleep  ; 
as  when  a  deep  sleep  came  on  Abram,  and  in  it  came  the 
promise,  to  him  and  to  his  children,  of  the  land  of  Palestine. 
To  Jacob  came  in  a  dream  a  vision  of  heaven,  and  angels 
ascending  and  descending  ;  and  a  clear  promise,  that  "  in  his 
seed  all  the  families  of  the  earth  should  be  blessed,"  and  not 
merely  the  Jews.  So  that,  in  sleep,  sometimes  come  to  us 
glimpses  of  truths  we  are  unable  to  see  when  awake  ;  perhaps 
because  in  sleep  we  are  more  passive  and  open  to  influences, 
and  not  so  shut  up  in  our  own  opinions  and  belief.  So  that, 
when  Jacob  arose  from  that  sleep,  he  said,  "  Surely  the  Lord 
is  here,  and  I  knew  it  not :  this  is  none  other  tliau  the  house 
of  God,  and  the  gate  of  heaven."  Daniel's  visions,  which 
came  to  him  in  sleep,  have  exercised  the  waking  thoughts  of 
men  ever  since  ;  and  still  they  do  not  know  very  well  what 
to  make  of  them. 

Wilkinson  says  that  "  man  is  captured  in  sleep,  not  by 
death,  but  by  his  higher  nature.  To-day  runs  in  through 
a  deeper  day  to  be  the  parent  of  to-morrow  ;  and  the  man 
issues  from  sleep  every  morning,  bright  as  the  morning,  and 
of  life-size." 

All  this  teaches  us  of  other  spiritual  sleeps,  not  uncon- 
scious, but  conscious  ;  of  the  higher  sleeps  of  the  soul,  wlien 
Ave  sleep  to  care,  to  anxiety,  to  sorrow,  to  sin,  to  fear,  to 
death  ;  falling  asleep  in  God.     Let  us  look  at  these. 

As  natural  and  automatic  sleep  refreshes  the  body  by  the 
suspense  of  the  active  will,  so  the  sleep  in  Avhich  the  soul 
casts  itself  on  God,  suspending,  for  a  time,  strength,  effort, 
6 


82 

and  all  conscious  goodness,  is  just  as  necessary  for  the  repair 
and  health  of  the  soul. 

We  must  rest  even  from  duty  and  effort  sometimes ;  but 
the  true  rest  from  these,  the  true  sleep  to  refresh  conscience 
and  spirit,  is  to  come  near  to  God  in  nature  or  the  Bible,  or 
the  closet  of  prayer.  "Work  and  prayer  should  alternate  like 
day  and  night  in  the  Christian  life  ;  and  bodily  sleep  and 
waking  seems  to  be  the  exact  analogon  of  this  spiritual  sleep 
and  waking.  There  are  two  spheres  —  one  of  duty,  the 
other  of  devotion  —  into  which  man  needs  alternately  to 
go.  They  ought  not  to  be  confused.  They  are  distinct. 
When  a  man  says,  "  To  work  is  to  pray,"  he  confuses 
them.  To  work  is  not  to  pray :  it  is  to  work.  When 
a  man  makes  prayer  his  work,  and  gives  his  life,  like  the 
monks  of  Paganism,  Mohammedanism,  and  Christianity,  to 
a  mere  abstract,  mystical  devotion,  he  confuses  them.  You 
cannot  work  well,  except  you  stop  working  sometimes  and 
pray.  You  cannot  pray  well,  unless  you  stop  praying  some- 
times to  work. 

I  know  Paul  says,  "  Pray  without  ceasing  :  "  but  by  that 
I  believe  him  to  mean,  "  Do  not  confine  yourself  to  regular 
hours  of  devotion,  —  three  times  a  day,  or  seven  times  a 
day  ;  but  pray  all  the  time,  as  you  feel  the  need  of  prayer." 
And  this  corresponds  with  the  Master's  saying,  that  true 
worship  is  to  worship  in  spirit  and  truth. 

Here  is  a  man  harassed  with  anxiety  and  care  about  his 
business,  about  his  health,  about  his  family.  Here  is  a 
woman  harassed  with  care  about  her  sick  child.  She  thinks 
she  ought  to  be  anxious  :  he  thinks  he  ought  to  be  anxious. 
They  try  to  be  anxious,  rather  than  not  to  be.  They  never 
throw  off  the  burden,  and  go  into  God's  glad  presence,  sleeping 
to  care,  sleeping  to  anxiety,  as  the  little  babe  in  its  cradle 
sleeps.  They  should  give  all  their  thought  for  a  time  to 
tlicir  duties,  put  their  whole  heart  into  them,  and  then  take 
an  hour  of  rest  in  God's  blessed  love,  and  cast  all  their  cares 


"  IF   HE   SLEEP,   HE   SHALL   DO   WELL."  83 

on  Him  who  cares  for  thera.  Thus  could  they  work  better, 
and  conquer  their  difficulties  better :  for  care  and  anxiety- 
unnerve  the  soul ;  and  to  try  to  live  in  anxiety  is  like  trying 
to  live  without  sleep. 

The  Christian  world  rests  on  Sunday.  I  am  no  Sabba- 
tarian. I  do  not  believe  in  keeping  the  Jewish  sabbath. 
Saturday  is  the  sabbath  ;  and,  if  any  one  wishes  to  keep  the 
sabbath,  let  him  keep  Saturday.  I  believe  that  the  Lord's 
Day  is  a  day  of  freedom,  not  of  constraint ;  of  joy,  and  not 
of  gloom.  I  believe  in  the  Catholic  view  of  it,  not  the  Puri- 
tanic. The  Catholic  Church  never  allows  fasting  on  Sun- 
day, not  even  in  Lent.  It  has  always  been  a  rule  of  the 
Church  to  make  Sunday  a  festival,  —  never  a  fast.  In  Lent, 
no  member  of  the  Roman  Catholic,  of  the  Greek,  or  of  the 
Oriental  churches,  is  allowed  to  make  Sunday  a  day  of  fast- 
ing. I  should  like  to  see  Sunday  made  in  every  family  the 
happiest  of  days,  —  a  day  of  domestic  joy  and  love  ;  a  day 
for  doing  good  ;  a  day  in  which  no  gloom  is  allowable  ;  a 
day  on  which  every  one  of  the  family  should  bring  all  his 
gifts  of  good-humor,  and  inventions  of  kindness,  to  the  rest. 

But  it  is  not  a  day  for  common  business,  for  going  to  and 
fro.  It  is  a  day  in  which  to  stand  still,  and  consider  the 
wonderful  works  of  God.  All  life  should  cease  its  bustle 
and  confusion,  and  grow  calm.  That  is  the  beauty  of  our 
mode  of  keeping  it.  The  world  stands  still  every  Sunday 
throughout  Christendom,  —  stands  still,  and  thinks ;  and  I 
believe  an  immense  access  of  power,  thought,  and  character 
comes  to  Christendom  from  this  one  source.  We  do  not 
keep  the  Lord's  Day  as  well  as  we  might,  or  as  well  as  our 
children  will  keep  it ;  but,  even  now,  it  is  a  source  of  great 
blessing  to  mankind. 

So  also  God  has  sent  his  Son  to  teach  us  to  sleep  to  sin  as 
well  as  to  care.  We  are  not  bound  to  be  always  troubling 
ourselves  about  our  sin.  We  are  not  bound  to  be  awake  to 
sin.    The  Bible  says,  "  Be  awake  to  righteousness."    It  does 


84  "  IF   HE   SLEEP,    HE   SHALL   DO   WELL." 

not  say,  Be  awake  to  sin.  We  are  to  see  our  sin,  and  repent 
of  it,  and  bring  it  to  God,  and  lay  it  down  before  his  foot- 
stool, and  then  accept  the  righteousness  which  is.  by  faith. 
Open  your  hearts  to  God's  forgiving  love.  Trust  that  your 
Father  forgives  you  when  you  are  penitent ;  and  you  are 
forgiven.  Receive  the  sweet  sense  of  reconciling  love  into 
your  heart,  and  repose  in  him,  —  the  dear  Friend  who  seat 
his  Son  to  save  you,  not  merely  hereafter,  but  now  ;  not 
merely  from  punishment,  but  from  sin  itself. 

Jesus,  you  will  have  noticed,  always  speaks  of  death  as 
sleep.  He  does  not  choose  to  call  it  deatli ;  for  he  came  to 
abolish  death,  and  those  who  believe  in  him  do  not  expect 
to  die.  They  expect  to  pass  through  a  sleep  into  a  fuller 
life.  Therefore  he  said  of  the  young  girl,  "  The  damsel  is 
not  dead,  but  sleepeth  ;  "  and  of  Lazarus,  "  Our  friend  Laz- 
arus sleepeth."  And  so  tlie  disciples,  afterward,  were  fond 
of  the  phrase,  and  spoke  of  those  who  were  asleep  in  Jesus. 
They  said  that  a  part  of  those  who  had  seen  Jesus  "  remain, 
but  some  are  fallen  asleep."  "  They  which  are  fallen 
asleep  in  Christ."  "  We  would  not  have  you  ignorant  con- 
cerning them  that  are  asleep."  ''  Since  the  fathers  fell 
asleep."  Their  choice  of  this  expression  was  not  accidental, 
nor  was  it  a  mere  figure  of  speech.  They  saw,  in  sleep,  the 
image  of  death;  meant  to  show  us,  that  as  we  sink  aAvay 
every  night  into  unconscious  but  happy  repose,  and  awaken 
refreshed,  so  it  will  be  at  the  end. 

The  most  remarkable  use  of  the  phrase,  however,  is  in  the 
case  of  Stephen.  To  the  Jews  he  seemed  to  die  a  horrible 
death  of  anguish  :  to  the  disciples  he  seemed  to  drop  into  a 
pleasant  slumber,  his  mind  full  of  viirions  of  Christ  and 
heaven.      "  When  he  had  said  this,  he  fell  asleep." 

Jesus  calls  death  a  sleep.  The  ancients  and  moderns  have 
called  death  the  sister  of  sleep.  Lewes,  in  a  scientific  work, 
says  this  is  a  mistake  ;  that  sleep  has  nothing  in  it  like  death. 
Yet  perhaps  there  is  a  deeper  analogy  than  science  can  per- 


"  IF    HE   SLEEP,    HE   SHALL   DO    WELL."  85 

celve.  Death  is  not  destruction  :  it  is  repose.  It  is  going 
to  rest  with  God  and  Christ,  and  the  dear  spirits  loved  and 
lost,  in  some  of  the  many  mansions  our  Father  has  in  his 
great  house,  the  universe.  Just  as  there  is  a  positive  pleas- 
ure in  sleep  which  attracts  the  tired  man,  just  as  food  at- 
tracts the  hungry  man,  so  death  attracts  the  weary  soul. 
This  instinct  is  no  mistake.  The  little  child,  full  of  wakeful 
life,  hates  to  go  to  bed,  longs  to  sit  up  later  ;  but  the  tired 
child  drops  sweetly  into  his  little  bed,  the  flushed  cheek  rest- 
ing on  the  round  arm.  So,  when  we  are  full  of  life,  we  hate 
the  idea  of  death  ;  but,  when  it  comes,  it  usually  finds  us 
tired  and  ready.  Almost  always,  men  are  willing  to  go. 
In  all  my  experience  of  death-beds,  I  have  met  only  one 
case  of  a  person  who  was  unwilling  to  die.  Usually  death 
comes  as  sweet  as  sleep,  bringing  with  it  a  positive  joy,  and 
revealing  beforehand  to  the  soul  something  of  the  love  and 
peace  which  lie  beyond  these  shores  of  time. 

Thus  sleep  is  a  symbol  and  teacher  of  many  things.  At 
first  sight,  it  seems  like  a  waste  of  life  ;  but  it  is  just  as  true 
life  as  the  waking  part.  Many  physiologists  even  declare 
that  sleep  is  the  natural  condition  of  man,  and  wakefulness 
the  abnormal  state  of  the  body.  This,  I  think,  is  not  so. 
The  one  is  as  natural  as  the  other  ;  for  the  two  must  be  well 
balanced  to  make  perfect  health.  To  sleep  too  much  is  as 
unhealthy  as  to  sleep  too  little.  But  sleep  and  wakefulness, 
passive  life  and  active  life,  faith  and  works,  piety  and  moral- 
ity, love  to  God  and  love  to  men,  —  these  all  are  the  great 
polar  forces  of  bodily,  mental,  and  moral  life,  w^hich  act  and 
re-act  on  each  other,  and  keep  us  as  we  ought  to  be.  The 
man  who  sleeps  all  the  time,  sleeps  to  no  purpose  ;  his  sleep 
hurts  him.  He  who  wakes  all  the  time,  wakes  to  no  pur- 
pose :  he  can  do  nothing  well.  He  who  labors  for  man, 
with  no  faith  in  God,  labors  to  little  good.  Fie  who  wor- 
ships God,  without  serving  man,  worships  to  little  good :  his 
prayers  hurt  him  rather  than  help  him. 


86  "  IF   HE   SLEEP,   HE   SHALL   DO   WELL." 

Sacred  is  the  clay  ;  sacred  also  the  night.  Holy  is  Avork  ; 
holy  also  is  prayer. 

Yes,  all  sleep  is  sacred.  "  If  a  man  sleep  well,  he  shall 
do  well."  A  writer  says,  "  Such  is  the  power  of  the  heart 
to  redeem  the  animal  life,  that  there  is  nothing  more  exqui- 
sitely refined  and  pure  and  beautiful  than  the  chamber  of  the 
house.  The  couch  !  —  from  the  day  that  the  bride  sanctifies 
it  to  the  day  when  the  aged  mother  is  borne  from  it,  it 
stands  clothed  with  loveliness  and  dignity.  Cursed  be  the 
tongue  that  dares  speak  evil  of  the  household  bed  !  By  its 
side  oscillates  the  cradle.  Not  far  from  it  is  the  crib.  In 
this  sacred  precinct,  the  mother's  chamber,  is  the  heart  of 
the  family.  Here  the  child  learns  its  prayer.  Hither,  night 
by  night,  angels  troop.     It  is  the  holy  of  holies." 

The  only  appropriate  words  with  which  to  conclude  these 
reflections  are  those  which  we  know  so  well,  —  the  words 
of  that  deep  and  tender  woman,  the  Christian  Muse  of  the 
nineteenth  century  of  Christianity,  —  words  which,  though 
we  may  know  them,  we  do  not  tire  of  hearing  :  — 

"  Of  all  the  thoughts  of  God  that  are 
Borne  inward  unto  souls  afar, 
Along  the  Psalmist's  music  deep, 
Now  tell  me  if  there  any  is 
For  gift  or  grace  surpassing  this,  — 
'He  giveth  his  beloved  sleep'? 

"  O  earth,  so  full  of  dreary  noises  ! 
O  men,  with  wailing  in  your  voices  ! 
O  delved  gold,  the  waller's  heap ! 
O  strife,  O  curse,  that  o'er  it  fall ! 
God  strikes  a  silence  through  you  all, 
And  giveth  his  beloved  sleep. 

"His  dews  drop  mutely  on  the  hill; 
His  cloud  above  it  saileth  still : 
Though  on  its  slope  men  sow  and  reap 
More  softly  than  the  dew  is  shed, 
Or  cloud  is  floated  overhead, 
He  givetli  his  beloved  sleep." 


IX. 

STAND   STILL. 

Job  x:^xvii.  14:  "  Stand  still,  and  consider  the  works  of  God." 
Eph.  vi.  13:  "Having  done  all,  stand." 

THERE  is  a  good  deal  of  merit  in  being  able  to  stand. 
It  is  merit,  however,  which  is  very  liable  to  be  under- 
valued. We  highly  prize  the  merit  of  going,  and  also  that 
of  doing;  not  enough,  perhaps,  the  Avorth  of  standing.  It 
is,  no  doubt,  a  great  merit  in  a  horse  to  go.  A  horse  is 
advertised  to  go  so  many  miles  an  hour,  so  many  minutes  to 
a  mile  ;  but  it  is  considered  an  additional  praise,  even  for  a 
horse,  that  he  can  stand.  He  will  "  stand  without  tying,"  it 
is  said.  Now,  if  this  is  a  merit  in  a  horse,  still  more  is  it 
in  a  man.  The  man  who  will  "  stand  without  tying"  has 
achieved  a  great  moral  accomplishment.  I  mean  a  man 
who  will  hold  his  place,  and  keep  it,  by  an  internal  force, 
not  an  external  one.  I  mean  one  who  will  stand  to  truth 
and  principle,  —  not  being  held  to  them  by  force  of  outward 
circumstances,  by  the  expectation  of  others,  by  the  fear  of 
being  called  inconsistent,  by  the  bood  of  a  creed  or  covenant 
publicly  acknowledged,  but  by  the  simple  power  of  inward 
conviction,  of  loyalty  to  conscience  and  right. 

Nature  is  full  of  types  to  show  us  the  beauty  of  such 
steadfastness.  Far  in  the  depths  of  the  primeval  forest, 
there  stands  a  tree,  the  monarch  of  the  woods.  A  casual 
seed,  wafted  by  the  summer  breeze,  found  for  itself  a  favor- 
able spot  of  soil.     Year  after  year  it  grew,  —  a  little  stalk, 

(87) 


88  STAND  STILL. 

too  small  to  support  a  bird ;  over  which  the  rabbit  leaped  as 
he  ran  ;  —  then  larger,  a  sapling.  So,  year  by  year,  rooting 
itself  more  deeply,  spreading  its  limbs  more  widely,  adding 
new  rings  of  wood  to  its  trunk,  rising  higher  into  the  cir- 
cumambient air,  visited  by  myriad  insects,  by  various  birds, 
it  stands  and  grows.  At  last,  it  reaches  its  maturity,  and  is 
a  mighty  tree,  monarch  of  the  woods.  Then  it  stands  in 
the  same  place  for  a  hundred  years,  for  five  hundred  years, 
unchanged.  The  white  clouds  drift  over  its  mighty  head  in 
the  infinite  expanse  of  heaven.  The  glories  of  moruiug,  the 
splendid  hues  of  evening,  the  deep  silence  of  night,  pass 
over  it.  It  stands,  unmoved.  Everything  comes  and  goes 
around  it :  it  remains,  contented  in  its  rooted  stability. 
Ilaviug  done  all  it  was  meant  to  do,  it  stands.  It  does  not 
see  so  much  variety  as  the  butterfly  that  lights  on  its  leaf. 
The  bird,  wlio  comes  to  make  his  summer  nest  in  its 
branches,  could  tell  it  a  thousand  stories  of  the  countries  he 
has  passed  through  in  his  annual  migrations.  But  the 
patient  tree  is  not  sent  to  hear  the  news  of  what  is  hap- 
pening in  the  world,  but  to  stand.  Yet  what  majesty  in  this 
steadfast  repose  I  And  at  last  the  traveller  comes  to  the 
place,  and  gazes  upward  into  tlie  infinite  multitude  of  its 
bowery  recesses,  its  flickering  lights  and  shades,  its  million 
leaves  waving  tremulous  in  the  summer  breeze,  or  roaring  in 
the  storm,  as  it  lashes  the  air  with  its  thousand  branches. 
He  thinks  of  it,  standing  through  so  many  seasons,  meeting 
the  spring  warmth  with  tenderly  swelling  buds,  and  stripping 
itself  in  the  autumn  to  battle  with  skeleton  arms  against 
winter  tempests  ;  and  there  comes  over  his  mind  the  sense 
of  a  sublime  stability,  which  touches  some  nobler  corre- 
sponding element  in  his  own  soul. 

Man  was  made,  not  only  to  see,  to  do,  to  go,  to  make 
progress,  but  also  to  stand.  Until  he  has  learned  to  stand,  he 
has  not  learned  the  whole  lesson  of  life.  Amid  all  change, 
we  desire  something  permanent ;  amid  all  variety,  something 


STAND  STILL.  89 

stable  ;  amid  all  progress,  some  central  unity  of  life  ;  some- 
thing which  deepens  as  we  ascend ;  which  roots  itself  as  we 
advance ;  which  grows  more  and  more  tenacious  of  the  old, 
while  becoming  more  and  more  open  to  the  new. 

Hence  the  importance  of  being  able  to  stand.  It  is 
important,  first,  in  order  to  see  the  truth  ;  secondly,  it  is 
important,  in  order  to  retain  what  we  have  seen. 

First,  mental  stability  is  good,  in  order  to  be  able  to  see 
the  truth.     It  is  good  to  stand  still,  and  consider. 

There  are  two  ways  of  seeing  things.  One  may  go  to 
see,  or  one  may  stand  still  and  see.  Each  way  has  its  ad- 
vantages. If  my  object  is  to  collect  separate  things,  all  the 
facts  of  a  certain  kind,  I  must  go  and  look  for  them.  To 
make  a  systematic  collection  of  any  kind  of  facts,  we  must 
go  for  them.  If  I  want  all  the  beetles  or  butterflies,  all  the 
Roman  coins,  all  the  books  printed  in  the  fifteenth  century, 
all  the  best  ancient  pictures,  all  the  knowledge  about  certain 
men  or  times  or  countries,  so  as  to  write  a  history  or  a 
biography,  I  must  go  for  them.  The  history  of  Greece  will 
not  come  to  me  by  any  inspiration,  while  I  sit  in  my  garden. 
I  must  go  to  libraries,  and  hunt  it  up  out  of  many  books. 
A  collection  of  autograph-letters  will  not  come  to  me  as  I 
stand  still  thinking  about  them :  I  must  write  to  this  man 
and  that,  inquire  here  and  there,  and  so  find  them. 

But  if  my  object  is,  not  to  make  a  full  collection,  but  to 
see  some  one  thing  in  its  relations,  as  it  lives,  vital  and 
active,  I  can  often  do  that  better  by  standing  still.  Let  me 
illustrate.  A  man  takes  his  gun,  and  goes  through  the 
western  woods  to  shoot  birds  or  other  game.  He  finds  what 
he  goes  for.  He  tramps  over  many  miles.  He  pushes 
through  wet  thickets,  where  the  long-billed  woodcock  flies 
up,  or  the  pheasant  whirs  with  sudden  flight.  He  finds  iu 
the  deep  forest  the  tree  to  which  the  pigeons  come  at  night 
to  roost.  The  startled  rabbit  runs  across  the  open  meadow 
before  him ;  the  gray  or  black  squirrel  springs  lightly  from 


90  STAND  STILL. 

the  end  of  one  long  swinging  branch  to  another.  So  the 
man  comes  home  at  night  with  what  he  went  for,  —  a  bag 
full  of  game.  But  he  has  seen  none  of  these  creatures  in 
their  natural  state.  Terror  went  before  him.  The  squirrel 
hid  behind  the  lofty  limb,  or  ran  affrighted  up  the  other 
side  of  the  tree-trunk  ;  and  the  birds,  with  panic-stricken 
bosoms,  hid  themselves  among  the  leaves.  He  has  got  some 
birds  ;  but  he  has  not  seen  their  life. 

Now,  another  man  goes  into  the  forest.  Perhaps  you 
have  so  gone  yourself.  You  sit  on  a  stone  in  the  shade,  and 
wait,  perfectly  still,  to  see  what  will  come.  As  you  sit,  all 
the  timid  creatures  come  out,  and  you  see  them  in  their 
domestic  life.  The  diligent  birds  bring  sticks  and  strings  to 
make  their  nests  ;  and,  while  they  work,  chirp  to  each  other 
about  their  amazing  architecture.  The  squirrel  hops  out  of 
his  hole,  bringing  a  nut  to  eat  in  the  fresh  air  ;  and  chips  the 
shell  with  the  air  of  an  artist,  spreading  his  bushy  tail  over 
his  back  like  a  shawl.  All  sorts  of  creatures  come  and  go 
that  one  never  sees  at  any  other  time.  All  natural  history 
reveals  itself  to  patient  waiting  and  watching.  These  won- 
ders of  God,  hidden  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  who  know 
all  that  books  teach,  are  revealed  to  the  babes  of  simple, 
patient,  attentive,  open-eyed  waiting. 

I  once  had  occasion  to  wait  ten  minutes  at  one  of  the  cor- 
ners of  the  Common  for  a  gentleman  who  appointed  to  meet 
me  there.  I  discovered,  while  standing  still,  what  I  never 
had  discovered  in  walking  by  that  place,  —  that  it  was  a 
place  of  general  appointments.  Several  little  dramas  oc- 
curred while  I  waited.  Several  persons  came,  and  stopped, 
and  looked  up  and  down,  and  strolled  to  and  fro,  and  came 
back ;  and,  at  last,  their  friends  met  them,  and  they  went 
away.  A  young  woman  came,  and  sat  down  on  a  bench 
very  quietly.  After  a  while,  a  young  man  arrived  ;  and 
each  took  tlie  other's  arm,  and  they  departed. 

Now,  I  have  been  by  that  corner  five  hundred  times  with- 


STAND  STILL.  91 

out  noticing  these  things ;  but  when  I  stood  still  there,  and 
waited  a  few  minutes,  I  saw  them  all. 

Travellers  in  Europe  often  fail  of  seeing  what  they  ought 
by  not  standing  still.  They  hurry  with  inconceivable  rapid- 
ity from  one  place  to  another.  They  put  themselves  into 
the  hands  of  a  courier,  and  go  all  over  the  Continent.  They 
give  a  day  to  Florence,  and  two  days  to  Rome,  and  think 
they  have  seen  Europe  :  hardly  more  than  if  they  had  staid 
at  home,  and  read  a  guide-book.  I  saw  a  man  in  Venice, 
who  had  arrived  there  that  morning,  and  was  going  away  in 
the  afternoon.  He  thought  he  had  seen  everything.  We 
were  sitting  in  a  little  cafe  on  the  great  square  of  the 
Duomo.  He  sat  by  the  window,  with  his  back  to  it.  He 
did  not  even  turn  round,  so  as  to  look  at  the  strange  beauty 
of  the  scene  outside  the  window,  —  the  Oriental  front  of  the 
Cathedral  of  St.  Mark,  with  its  domes  and  mosaics,  and  the 
groups  in  the  old  historic  square.  A  man  must  stand  still  to 
see  anything.  Some  of  our  American  and  English  travellers 
never  stand  still  long  enough  to  receive  a  single  deep  impres- 
sion of  any  place  they  go  to. 

Now  it  is  the  same  with  truth.  We  must  stand  still  in 
order  to  receive  truth  in  any  living  and  profound  way  into 
our  minds.  It  is  different  with  us  and  with  a  locomotive  or 
steam  fire-engine,  which,  by  running,  makes  a  draught  for  its 
fire  to  kindle.  The  fire  in  man's  heart  kindles  while  he 
stands  still.  "  While  I  was  musing,  the  fire  burned."  That 
is  the  difference  between  the  way  of  getting  theology  and 
getting  religion.  If  I  want  to  get  theology,  which  is  dead 
truth,  "  the  skins  and  skeletons  of  truth  stuffed  and  set  up  in 
cases,"  then  I  must  go  about,  and  seek  for  it  in  books,  in 
sermons,  in  this  church  and  the  other.  I  must  listen  to  all 
the  statements  and  arguments  which  I  can  hear :  so,  by  and 
by,  I  get  my  theology.  But,  if  I  wish  for  religion,  it  is  dif- 
ferent. Then  I  must  stand  still,  and  consider  the  wonderful 
works  of  God.     I  must  see  God  in  the  glory  of  morning. 


92  STAND   STILL. 

and  the  beauty  of  descending  twilight ;  in  the  charm  of  ear- 
liest birds  ;  in  herb,  tree,  fruit,  and  flower  glistening  with 
dew\  I  must  stand  still  each  day,  and  think  of  what  God 
has  done  for  me  ;  how  he  has  blessed  me  with  home,  friends, 
love,  opportunity  of  knowledge,  and  rich  influences  of  cul- 
ture. I  must  consider  how  he  has  sent  to  me  wise  teachers, 
and  generous,  loving  hearts,  to  stand  by  me  amid  the  storms 
of  life.  I  must  remember  how^  he  has  put  dear  little  chil- 
dren in  my  arms,  and  holy  wise  men  and  women  near  me 
for  my  emergencies  ;  how  he  has  borne  with  me  in  my  wil- 
fulness and  pride  and  folly,  and  restrained  me  from  going 
into  irremediable  evil.  I  must  recollect  how  often,  when  I 
have  gone  to  the  very  verge  of  some  fatal  wrong,  he  has 
put  forth  his  hand,  and  held  me  back,  and  saved  me  from 
being  an  utter  castaway  ;  or  how,  when  I  have  prayed,  be- 
cause I  could  not  do  any  longer  without  prayer,  he  has  hastened 
to  meet  my  ignorant  supplication,  and  answered  it,  —  O,  so 
sweetly  !  — filling  my  soul  down  to  its  very  depths  wdth  the 
peace  of  God  passing  all  understanding ! 

So,  too,  I  must  see  Christ,  if  at  all.  People  perplex 
themselves  and  others  with  infinite  questions  about  him, 
which  never  have  been  answered,  nor  can  be.  Was  he 
God?  Was  he  man?  Did  he  preexist?  What  is  the 
hypostatic  union,  —  two  natures  in  one  person  ?  They  quote 
texts  for,  and  texts  against.  "  I  and  my  Father  are  one." 
"  My  Father  is  greater  than  I."  "  Before  Abraham  was,  I 
am."  They  tear  these  poor  texts  from  their  places  in  tlie 
living  Scripture  in  order  to  fling  them  at  our  heads.  Such 
texts,  in  their  place,  in  the  life  of  Jesus,  are  like  flowers  and 
fiuits  in  a  garden,  full  of  sweetness  and  charm.  But  the 
apples,  peaches,  and  roses,  which  are  plucked  from  their 
stalks,  soon  decay,  and  become  something  very  diflcrent. 
So  are  texts  plucked  from  their  context.  Take  that  famous 
text,  for  example,  "  I  and  my  Father  are  one."  How  was 
it  spoken?     Some  Jews  wished  Jesus  to  issue  a  proclama- 


STAND   STILL.  93 

tion  that  he  was  the  Messiah.  "  Tell  us  plainly  if  you  are 
the  Christ, '  they  say.  He  answers,  "  See  my  life  ;  see  my 
works.  Do  you  love  them?  Do  you  see  anything  of  God 
in  them?  If  you  do,  you  will  follow  after  me,  because  you 
belong  to  me.  You  cannot  help  following  me,  and  keeping 
by  me  ;  and  all  the  powers  on  earth  cannot  take  you  from 
me,  because  your  heart  will  perpetually  draw  you  to  me  and 
to  my  Father.  It  is  one  and  the  same  thing.  If  you  come 
to  me,  you  come  to  God ;  because  my  life  is  to  you  God's 
truth  and  love  revealed.  We  are  one  ;  and  if  you  are  bound 
to  me  by  loving  my  works,  and  sympathizing  with  them, 
then  you  are  bound  to  God,  and  no  one  can  separate  you 
from  God." 

This  is  the  way  to  know  Christ,  then,  —  to  stand  still,  and 
look  at  him,  not  to  argue  about  him.  Look  at  his  majestic 
holiness,  so  grand,  yet  so  simple  and  unpretending,  which 
came  up  in  Judaea,  and  lasted  a  few  years,  and  then  filled 
the  centuries  with  its  light  and  beauty.  Look  at  his  religion, 
so  human,  yet  so  divine  ;  a  religion  for  this  world,  and  the 
other  world  too  ;  a  religion  which  loves  God  by  loving  its 
brother ;  a  religion  not  of  any  dogma,  any  ceremony,  any 
anxious  fears,  but  of  trust,  obedience,  and  generous  affection. 
Look  at  Jesus  himself,  the  perfect  revelation  of  God  in  man  ; 
a  man  so  manful,  and,  if  I  may  say  it,  also  so  womanful ;  a 
man  harmonizing  the  best  traits  of  man  and  woman.  He 
was  calm,  deep,  brave,  a  leader  of  men  ;  also  tender,  child- 
like, pure,  and  gentle  as  the  best  of  w^omen.  Stand  still, 
and  look  at  him.  Come  to  his  feast  of  love,  and  think  about 
him.  Sit  at  his  feet,  and  thank  God  that  he  has  lived,  lift- 
ing us  above  the  terror  of  death  and  sin,  and  showing  us 
heaven  here  and  heaven  hereafter. 

Next,  stability  in  man  is  loyalty.  It  is  not  merely  a 
passive  and  indolent  conservatism  ;  it  is  an  active  adherence 
to  certain  convictions,  duties,  and  affections.  Even  the  tree 
has  a  live  hold  of  the  earth  :  its  roots  are  as  livinor  as  its 


94  STAND   STILL. 

branches.  It  is  not  held  to  the  ground,  passively,  by  the 
law  of  gravitation  ;  but  clings  to  it  actively,  by  the  law  of 
life.  Much  more,  man's  stability  is  an  active,  and  not  a 
passive  virtue.  To  keep  to  what  is  old,  merely  from  an 
indolent  reluctance  to  change,  is  less  meritorious  than  the 
stability  of  a  tree  ;  but  to  cling  to  the  past,  to  the  known, 
the  loved,  the  dear,  from  loyalty,  from  gratitude,  from  con- 
science, —  this  alone  is  noble.  We  must  stand  actively,  not 
passively.  We  cannot  even  stand  on  our  feet  passively. 
It  requires  a  constant  effort  of  will  and  great  balancing 
power  to  stand,  as  the  human  being  stands,  on  two  feet. 
The  culmination  of  creation  came,  when  the  animal,  which 
had  floated,  upborne  in  water  or  air  by  wings  or  fins ;  v/hich 
had  crawled  on  the  earth,  or  had  walked  on  four  feet,  — 
finally  arose,  and  stood  on  two,  and  was  able,  having  done  all 
other  things,  to  stand.  I  suppose  it  wouhl  be  impossible  for 
the  most  skilful  sculptor  to  make  a  statue  of  a  man  which 
should  stand  on  two  feet.  In  almost  all  other  instincts, 
some  animals  excel  men  ;  but  in  this  of  balancing  himself, 
man  excels  them.  It  is  easier  to  walk  than  to  stand.  In 
walking,  we  are  partly  passive,  falling  forward :  in  standing 
still,  we  are  constantly  holding  ourselves  upright. 

No  doubt  it  is  the  destiny  of  man  to  make  progress  in 
truth  ;  to  forget  things  behind,  aud  reach  out  to  things  be- 
fore. But,  unless  he  stands  on  something,  he  cannot  go  for- 
ward. There  must  be  sometiiing  solid  beneath  his  feet,  else 
he  cannot  walk.  It  is  not  progress  to  throw  away  all  I 
know  to-day,  in  order  to  learn  something  else  to-morrow. 
To  advance  in  knowledge  is  not  wholly  to  forget  the  past, 
but  to  take  it  with  us.  We  drop  much,  we  put  away  child- 
ish things,  we  leave  the  form  of  truth  behind  us,  as  the 
snake  his  skin  ;  but  we  must  not  leave  the  substance  of  truth. 
In  all  mental  progress,  there  arc  some  great  convictions 

"  Which  wake,  to  perish  never." 


STAND   STILL.  95 

There  are  some  mental  convictions  which  only  deepen  and 
strengthen  while  all  other  thoughts  change.  There  are 
ideas  of  God,  freedom,  immortality,  justice,  truth,  eternal 
right,  infinite  love,  to  which  we  must  cling  as  the  tree  cliags 
to  the  soil ;  on  which  we  must  stand,  in  order  to  move  on. 

This  is  the  distinction  between  real  mental  progress  and 
that  which  only  stimuhites  it.  We  too  often  imagine  that 
change  is  progress.  We  see  people  who  go  from  church  to 
church,  from  creed  to  creed,  dropping  all  their  past  at  each 
step  they  take.  This  may  sometimes  be  necessary ;  but  it  is 
an  unfortunate  necessity.  To  lighten  itself  off  from  a  rock, 
a  ship  may  have  to  throw  its  cargo  overboard ;  but  this  is 
not  a  good  thing  to  do,  if  it  can  be  helped.  True  intellectual 
progress  is  to  add  new  thoughts  to  the  old  ones. 

The  reason  why  so  many  men  stick  in  a  few  opinions, 
and  take  no  new  ones,  is,  that  they  are  not  rooted  in  any- 
thing. They  are  afraid  to  move,  for  fear  of  falling.  They 
have  not  learned  to  stand ;  so  they  cannot  go.  It  is  not 
because  they  believe  the  old  so  strongly,  that  they  fear  the 
new  ;  but  because  they  believe  it  so  feebly.  The  man  who 
is  rooted  in  certain  convictions  is  not  afraid  to  move  for- 
ward ;  for  he  knows  he  shall  not  lose  them. 

Nothing  is  so  beautiful  and  noble  as  this  power  of  per- 
sistency and  progress  in  one.  It  is  beautiful  to  see  the  ship, 
with  all  sails  spread,  running  before  a  favoring  breeze,  —  one 
cloud  of  white  canvas  ;  plunging  forward  into  the  dark  sea, 
and  throwing  it  from  its  bow  in  sparkling  drops  and  masses 
of  foam ;  but  still  more  beautiful  it  is  to  see  the  same  ship 
lying  to,  its  head  to  the  wind,  holding  itself  against  the 
storm,  without  cable  or  anchor  ;  compelling  the  blast  which 
tries  to  drive  it  back  to  hold  it  in  its  place.  So  noble  is  it 
to  see  the  man  lying  to  in  the  storm  of  life.  He  is  unable  to 
make  progress  ;  but  he  compels  the  very  blast  of  adverse 
circumstance  to  hold  him  in  his  place. 

The  weakest  of  all  things,  perhaps,  is  scepticism.     Unless 


yt)  STAND  STILL. 

a  man  has  some  fixed,  clear  convictions,  he  drifts  helplessly 
through  the  world.  He  has  no  force  in  himself.  He  can 
do  nothing.  The  sceptic  is  a  cipher  in  action,  because  he  is 
a  cipher  in  conviction.  The  tree  which,  at  any  rate,  stands 
for  a  thousand  years,  is  nobler  than  he.  Pity  him,  however, 
and  help  him.  He  is  in  a  morbid  state.  He  is  a  sick  man : 
be  tender  to  him.  Do  not  despise  the  sceptic ;  but,  if  you 
have  any  faith,  help  him  to  it.  Sympathize  with  him  ;  for 
some  of  his  disease  is  in  us  all.  We  all  of  us  are  obliged  to 
pray,  "  Lord,  I  believe  :  help  thou  mine  unbelief!  " 

But  one  source  of  scepticism  is  in  the  false  idea  that  we 
are  wholly  passive  in  our  belief.  It  is  not  so.  When  God 
shows  us  a  truth,  it  is  our  duty  to  cling  to  it.  When  we 
have  seen  any  great  idea,  we  must  not  let  it  go,  but  stand  to 
it  firmly  and  loyally.  A  man  can  be  loyal  in  thought  no 
less  than  in  action.  He  is  disloyal,  if,  having  seen  a  truth, 
he  lets  it  go  through  indifference  ;  if  curiosity  is  stronger  in 
him  than  conviction  ;  if  he  loves  novelty  more  than  reality. 

Again :  he  who  can  stand  firm  in  his  convictions,  and  be 
loyal  to  his  insights,  is  able  to  be  also  loyal  to  his  duties. 
Having  done  all,  he  can  stand. 

In  the  ruins  of  Pompeii,  after  they  have  shown  you  the 
great  amphitheatre,  the  streets,  the  forum,  the  shops,  the 
houses,  the  villas,  they  take  you  through  the  gate,  and  show 
you  the  stone  sentry-box,  where  were  found,  buried  in  ashes, 
the  rusted  remains  of  the  helmet  and  cuirass  of  the  Roman 
sentinel.  When  the  black  cloud  rose  from  the  mountain, 
and  the  hot  ashes  fell  around  him,  and  the  people  rushed  by 
him  from  the  city  in  their  frantic  flight,  he  could  do  nothing 
else,  but  he  could  stand ;  and  so  he  stood,  and  died  in  his 
place,  suffocated  by  the  sulphury  air.  He  was  buried  deep 
beneath  the  ashes  ;  and  so,  after  fifteen  hundred  years,  his 
disinterred  remains  testify  to  the  nobleness  which  stands  to 
its  post  when  it  can  do  nothing  else. 

It  is,  perhaps,  the  highest  kind  of  courage,  this  of  standing 


STAND   STILL.  97 

to  our  post,  no  matter  whether  we  seem  to  succeed  or  to 
fail.  For  this,  we  dwell  so  often,  with  tearful  eyes,  on  the 
story  of  the  heady  fight,  when  young  men  stand  firm  at  their 
post,  though  conscious  that  it  is  in  vain.  The  three  hundred 
at  Thermopyiie,  the  six  hundred  at  Balaklava,  the  Fifteenth 
and  Twentieth  Massachusetts  at  Ball's  Bluff,  —  these  are 
more  heroic  instances  than  the  men  who  shared  the  triumphs 
of  victorious  days.  Having  done  all,  they  stood,  and  stood 
to  die.  ■*  They  stood,  hour  after  hour,  while  the  long  waves 
of  battle  rolled  up  against  them  ;  stood,  hearing  the  wild 
yells  of  the  overwhelming  masses  brought  up  to  crush  them. 

"Not  theirs  to  reason  why, 
Not  theirs  to  make  reply ; 
Theirs  but  to  do,  or  die." 

Such  moments  of  heroic  courage  indicate  to  us  all  what  is 
the  real  nobleness  of  life.  It  is  to  do  all,  and  then  stand  ;  to 
stand  firm  to  our  duty,  loyal  to  right,  faithful  to  justice  and 
truth,  whether  men  hear  or  forbear.  This  makes  it  worth 
while  to  live.  If  a  man  only  lives  for  success,  he  is  poor 
and  cowardly  when  disaster  comes.  Then  we  hear  him 
finding  fault,  complaining,  lamenting,  fearing  everything; 
throwing  doubt  on  everything ;  talking  like  the  book  of  Ec- 
clesiastes,  not  like  the  book  of"  Revelation.  "  There  is  no 
good  thing,"  he  says,  "  under  the  sun.  All  men  are  rascals  ; 
all  life  is  vanity.  Everything  goes  wrong.  There  is  no 
hope  for  the  world."  The  man  who  thus  talks  is  one  who 
has  never  lived  for  duty  and  right  at  all,  only  for  success  or 
show. 

But  he  who  has  once  seen  the  majestic  face  of  Duty,  who 
has  once  for  all  taken  her  as  his  queen,  with  submission  and 
service,  feels  a  stern  joy  in  the  midst  of  all  disaster,  a 
strange  hope  borne  in  the  bosom  of  disappointment,  a  joy 
of  success  amid  failure.  He  says,  '*  When  I  am  weak,  then 
I  am  strong."  God  is  on  his  side :  what  shall  he  fear  ? 
7 


98  STAND  STILL. 

*'  He  is  troubled  on  every  side,  yet  not  distressed ;  per- 
plexed, but  not  in  despair ;  persecuted,  but  not  forsaken ; 
cast  down,  but  not  destroyed."  Nothing  shakes  his  solid 
mind.  And  if  this  is  noble  ;  if  it  is  a  grateful  sight  to  the 
higher  powers  to  see  the  good  man  struggling  with  the 
storms  of  fate,  —  why  is  it  not  also  grateful  to  God  and  the 
angels  to  see  the  man  who  is  not  triumphantly  virtuous, 
struggling  against  inbred  sin,  against  habits  of  evil  inherited 
or  self-formed?  He  is  unable  to  conquer,  perhaps  he  is 
unable  to  be  wholly  good ;  yet  he  will  not  yield.  He  will 
stand  against  evil,  if  he  can  do  no  more. 

There  is  yet  another  loyalty,  another  kind  of  persistence, 
as  deep  as  these  other  two,  —  loyalty  to  love.  To  stand 
firm,  rooted  in  pure  and  true  affections  ;  to  love  the  noble, 
the  generous,  the  good,  without  regard  to  any  return  on 
their  part,  —  this  is  also  excellent. 

When  I  see  persons,  who,  having  had  friends,  have  lost 
them,  and  who  complain  of  having  been  deceived  and  mis- 
taken, I  think  they  never  loved  aright.  The  true  affections 
are  as  permanent  as  God  himself.  That  which  I  have  really 
loved  I  continue  to  love  forever.  I  may  not  see  my  friend 
for  many  years.  I  may  be  separated  in  life  and  action.  He 
may  leave  me  for  another  world.  He  may  be  tired  of  me. 
But  if  I  have  really  loved  in  him  anything  good  ;  if  I  have 
ever  seen  in  him  anything  truly  excellent,  beautiful,  and 
noble,  —  it  is  there  still ;  and  I  must  love  it  still,  in  order  to 
be  true  to  myself.  The  heart  which  has  not  this  persistency 
of  affection  is  superficial  and  cold.  Of  all  the  beautiful 
things  in  this  world,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  is  the  undying 
affection  of  father  and  child  ;  of  brother  and  sister  ;  of  friends 
who  have  been  friends  from  childhood  to  manhood  ;  of  those 
who,  through  long  years  of  prosperity  and  disaster,  still 
work  together,  go  on  together,  pursue  the  same  aim,  live  the 
same  life.  This  unselfish  love  is  itself  the  germ  and  begin- 
ning: of  the  love  of  God.     This  love,  so  steadfast  to  the  good 


STAND   STILL.  99 

and  right  in  man,  leads  us  up  to  the  sole  Fair  and  the  sole 
True.  It  is  comfort ;  it  is  joy  ;  it  is  heaven.  It  gives  unity 
of  purpose  to  life,  and  strength  to  the  weary  in  soul. 

Perhaps  this  war  will  be  the  means  of  developing  a  higher 
national  life  in  this  people,  by  teaching  us  to  stand  ;  and  to 
stand,  not  on  prosperity  and  success,  but  on  principle.  We 
have  had  our  great  prosperity  and  success,  and  have  been 
ehited.  We  are  now  denounced  and  opposed  by  the  whole 
civilized  world.  It  has  happened  to  us,  as  it  happens  so 
often,  that  our  punishment  for  sin  was  postponed  until  we 
had  begun  to  repent  and  to  do  right.  It  often  happens  so. 
While  men  are  going  wrong,  everything  prospers.  As  soon 
as  they  begin  to  go  right,  the  consequences  of  their  previous 
sins  begin  to  fall  on  them.  Perhaps  it  is  because  the  nation 
or  the  men  who  begin  to  do  right  have  begun  to  be  strong, 
and  are  better  able  to  bear  their  punishments. 

But  now,  if  God  deals  with  us  as  with  sons,  and  is  chas- 
tening us,  it  will  be  for  our  profit.  We,  as  a  nation,  in  our 
hour  of  darkness,  will  perhaps  grow  inwardly  more  strong. 
We  have  learned  in  past  times  to  grow,  to  act,  and  to  go 
forward.  We  have  been  a  very  fast  people.  We  have  al- 
ways wished  to  go  ahead  :  now,  perhaps,  we  shall  learn  how 
to  stand.  The  old  loyalty  to  our  national  history,  which  we 
thought  dead,  broke  forth  in  1861,  in  a  flame  of  light,  at  the 
siege  of  Sumter.  We  rose  as  a  people  to  stand  by  the  flag. 
Having  learned  to  stand  by  the  flag,  we  may  also  learn  to 
stand  by  what  the  flag  symbolizes  ;  to  stand  up  for  equal 
rights,  for  universal  freedom,  for  justice  to  all,  for  a  true 
democracy,  for  general  rights. 

Thus  man,  the  microcosm,  resumes  in  himself  all  that  is 
to  be  found  in  nature.  He  stands  rooted,  like  the  tree,  in 
principles ;  he  moves,  like  the  bird,  in  the  element  of  free- 
dom ;  he  is  fed,  like  the  flower,  by  the  sunlight  and  air  and 
rain  from  the  skies  ;  and,  like  the  round  globe  itself,  he 
hangs  poised  in  the  eternal  heavens,  moving  on  in  the  orbit 


100  STAND   STILL. 

of  duty  around  the  everlasting  Sun,  which  is  God  himself, 
the  same  forever  and  forever. 

So,  my  friends,  life  goes  on.  Let  us  live  it  as  we  ought : 
standing  still,  from  time  to  time,  to  see  and  consider  God's 
works,  and  then  going  out  to  do  them ;  standing  in  our 
place,  and  looking  from  our  place,  and  always  loyal  and 
faithful  at  our  place.  God  sends  times  for  work,  and  times 
for  consideration.  He  sends  us  homes,  where  we  may  go 
and  rest  and  consider.  He  sends  calm  evening  and  dewy 
night,  the  companionship  of  wise  and  loving  hearts,  and  the 
peace  of  this  holy  day.  Into  these  oratories  of  thought, 
love,  and  prayer,  let  us  go  to  consider  and  ponder ;  and  then 
let  us  take  hold  of  life,  and  do  the  great  will  of  the  Master, 
and  let  life  be  better  for  our  being  in  it ;  and  when  M'e  are 
old,  if  God  grants  us  to  be  old,  we  shall  look  from  that 
mountain-top  of  age  into  the  promised  land  of  a  rejoicing 
and  happy  future. 


X. 

GROW  UP. 
Eph.  iv.  15:    ''Speaking  the  truth  in  love,  gkow  up  in  all 

THINGS    INTO    HIM    WHICH    IS    THE    HeAD,    EVEN    ChRIST." 

ONE  object  of  life  is  to  grow.  If  any  one  grows,  if  he 
grows  up,  if  he  grows  up  in  all  things,  if  he  grows  up 
in  all  things  into  Christ,  then  he  has  attained  one  great  end 
for  which  God  placed  him  here.  This  seems  a  different 
statement  from  the  old  catechism  statement,  that  the  end 
of  man's  being  is  "  to  glorify  God,  and  enjoy  him  forever." 
Yet  it  is  only  the  same  thing  in  another  form.  For  how  do 
we  glorify  God?  By  praising  him,  by  singing  hymns  to  him, 
by  calling  him  omnipotent  and  omniscient  ?  Certainly  not. 
"  Herein  is  my  Father  glorijQed,  that  ye  hear  much  fruit :  so 
shall  ye  be  my  disciples."  That  is  what  Christ  says,  that 
we  glorify  God  when  we  bear  much  fruit ;  and  we  cannot 
do  that  unless  we  grow.  Therefore,  to  grow  up  vigorously 
and  symmetrically,  and  in  all  things  into  Christ,  is  to  glorify 
God. 

Pope  gives  still  another  definition  of  the  object  of  life. 
It  is  happiness. 

"  O  happiness  !  our  being's  end  and  aim,  — 

Good,  pleasure,  ease,  content,  whate'er  thy  name ; 
That  something  still  which  prompts  the  eternal  sigh, 
For  which  we  bear  to  live,  or  dare  to  die." 

But  this  also  comes  to  the  same  thing.     For  what  surer  way 
to  happiness  than  lies  in  the  unfolding  of  all  the  faculties, 

(101) 


102  GROW   UP. 

the  exercise  of  all  the  powers,  the  development  of  all  the 
capacities  of  our  nature,  the  various  accomplishment,  the 
daily  progress,  all  of  which  are  included  in  the  word 
*' growth"?  To  grow  up  is  happiness;  to  grow  up  is  to 
glorify  God. 

The  Bible,  therefore,  is  full  of  indications  and  similitudes 
drawn  from  growth.  "  The  righteous,"  says  David,  "  shall 
grow  like  a  cedar  in  Lebanon."  Any  one  who  has  ever 
seen  these  noble  trees  will  understand  the  force  of  the  com- 
parison. In  my  last  sermon,  I  took  a  tree  as  the  type  of 
stability  :  now  1  take  it  again  as  a  type  of  growth.  A  cedar 
of  Lebanon  is  growing  in  the  Garden  of  Plants,  in  Paris. 
It  is  a  majestic  tree,  spreading  out  its  great  lateral  branches, 
each  sustaining  a  mass  of  deep-green  foliage.  But  on  the 
blue  sides  of  Lebanon,  in  their  own  congenial  climate,  these 
noble  trees  made  each  a  temple  for  the  worship  of  God. 
Centuries  of  growth  had  hardened  their  imperishable  and 
fragrant  wood.  Their  vast  limbs,  each  a  tree  in  itself,  spread 
out,  heavy  with  leaves,  making  a  home  for  all  the  birds  of 
the  air.  What  better  type  of  Christian  growth  than  this 
patient,  constant,  unceasing  growth  of  one  of  these  great 
forest-kings?  It  may  be  a  cedar  of  Lebanon  ;  or  a  tall  elm 
in  a  Nevv  England  valley,  standing  in  solitary  grace,  an  urn 
of  waving  greenery ;  or  a  Norway  fir,  spreading  its  robes, 
like  a  duchess,  over  the  white  snow  of  its  native  mountains ; 
or  a  live  oak,  sheltering  with  its  great  shadow  the  men  and 
cattle  on  a  Louisiana  plantation,  till  the  cruel  bell  calls  again 
to  labor ;  or  perhaps  it  is  a  tulip-tree,  covered  with  yellow 
flowers,  on  the  plains  of  Kentucky  ;  or  a  lofty  California  fir, 
the  gigantic  monarch  of  the  forest,  looking  out  from  his 
snowy  Sierra  upon  the  blue  Pacific.  They  stand  firm  in 
their  place.  They  grow  year  by  year,  adding  something  to 
the  density  of  their  fibre,  something  to  their  expanse  and 
elevation.  Yet  they  become  little  children  again  every  year. 
They  renew  their  youth  in  myriad  tender  buds,  little  fVagile 


GROW  UP.  103 

leaves,  and  sweet  childish  blossoms.  So  they  are  the  type 
of  what  is  best  in  man,  —  steady  growth  in  all  that  is  great 
and  strong,  joined  with  a  youth  of  the  heart  ever  renewed 
by  faith  and  love. 

Yet  it  is  not  enough  to  grow :  we  must  grow  up.  Some 
trees  do  not  grow  up.  If  you  go  to  the  summit  of  Mount 
Washington,  just  before  you  reach  the  top  you  will  find 
yourself  wall^ing  on  the  tops  of  trees.  They  are  true  trees  ; 
but,  stunted  by  the  cold,  and  beaten  down  by  storms  which 
rage  around  the  bleak  brow  of  the  mountain,  they  spread 
themselves  on  the  ground,  and  cannot  rise.  So  it  sometimes 
is  with  man.  Discouraged  by  difficulty,  he  loses  his  power 
of  rising.  He  loses  faith  and  hope.  He  clings  to  the  ground. 
It  is  sad  to  see  so  many  men  losing  faith  as  they  gain  ex- 
perience ;  growing  more  worldly,  and  calling  their  worldli- 
ness  good  sense.  It  is  an  unnatural  state  of  mind.  Man 
ought  to  grow  ui)  as  he  grows  old  ;  to  have  more  faith  in 
God  and  man  ;  to  enlarge  his  horizon  ;  to  see  more  of  the 
past  and  the  future  ;  to  live  more  among  the  things  which  are 
unseen,  but  eternal.  Such  a  man  inspires  others ;  elevates 
others  ;  brings  others  to  new  hope  ;  gives  them  new  encour- 
agement ;  helps  them  to  see  God  in  Nature,  Providence,  and 
Christ,  and  in  their  own  hearts  ;  helps  them  to  look  on  life 
cheerfully,  and  on  death  without  anxiety,  as  God  meant  that 
we  should. 

"  To  each  unthinking  being,  Heaven,  a  friend, 
Gives  not  the  useless  knowledge  of  its  end : 
To  man  imparts  it,  but  with  such  a  view. 
That,  while  he  dreads  it,  makes  him  hope  it  too. 
The  hour  concealed,  and  so  remote  the  fear ; 
Death  still  draws  nearer,  never  seeming  near." 

Some  men  and  trees  grow  down,  and  not  up.  You  will 
see  trees  by  the  side  of  a  river,  all  bending  down  towards 
the  running  stream,  stretching  their  arms  towards  it,  as  if  to 
bathe  in  the  cool,  rushing  waters.     No  matter  what  their 


104  GROW   UP. 

forms  are  elsewhere  :  by  the  side  of  running  water,  they  all 
bow  down  to  it.  It  is  the  nature  of  the  arbor-vitae  to  grow 
upward :  but  around  Niagara  it  assumes  fantastic  forms  ; 
and  there  it  stoops  towards  the  torrent,  leaning  down, 
reaches  its  long  branches  into  it,  and  becomes  as  strange 
and  weird  a  tree  as  the  old  olive-trees  of  Italy,  which  seem 
half  trees,  half  men.  So,  by  the  side  of  the  rushing  river  of 
business  which  roars  every  day  through  the  sfreels  of  Bos- 
ton, how  many  men  acquire  a  habit  of  stooping  down,  and 
leaning  down,  and  reaching  down,  till  they  forget  that  it  is 
the  great  distinction  of  man  to  stand  erect,  to  look  up  to 
the  sky,  and  abroad  over  the  earth,  as  even  a  Heathen  poet 
knew !  — 

"■  Os  horaini  sublime  dedit,  coeluraque  tueri 
Jussit,  et  erectos  ad  sidera  tollere  vultus." 

But  it  is  not  enough  to  grow  up :  we  must  grow  up  m  all 
things.  In  a  dense  old  forest,  where  the  woodman  has  never 
gone  with  his  axe,  you  will  find  all  sorts  of  trees  looking 
very  much  alike.  They  have  lost  their  individuality.  They 
all  strain  up  and  up  towards  the  light,  till  they  look  like  the 
pine.  The  elm  loses  its  queenly  grace  ;  the  oak,  its  manly 
and  rugged  strength  ;  the  maple,  its  elliptical  mass  of  dense, 
green  foliage  ;  the  birch,  its  waving,  feathery  branches  ;  the 
beech,  its  pendent,  flowing,  glittering,  sunlit  surfaces  :  and 
all  grow  up,  straight  shafts,  in  gloomy  monotony.  They 
grow  up ;  but  that  is  not  the  only  duty  of  a  tree.  Its  duty 
is  to  spread  itself  out,  and  assume  its  typical  form,  which 
God  gave  it  as  a  law,  when  it  was  a  little  seed,  and  told  it 
to  grow  into  that. 

Religious  people  have  often  made  a  like  mistake.  They 
have  thought  it  their  only  business  to  strain  up  to  heaven ; 
to  drop  off  all  their  lateral  branches,  and  cultivate  a  monot- 
onous and  gloomy  piety.  But  when  God  made  us,  and  put 
into  us  so  many  faculties  and  powers  of  body  and  soul,  he 
thereby  commanded  us  to  unfold  them.     He  did  not  make 


GROW  UP.  105 

all  men  alike ;  nor  did  he  mean  that  all  men  should  be  as- 
cetic saints  or  austere  pietists.  He  meant  that  we  should 
love  him,  but  love  our  brother  also,  and  our  earthly  life  too. 
God  is  pleased  with  us  when  we  grow  up  in  all  things  into 
Christ ;  not  in  one  thing  only.  He  loves  to  see  men  with 
well-developed  bodies  ;  with  good  perceptive  organs  ;  with 
sharp  eyes  and  keen  senses  ;  with  active  and  agile  limbs, 
capable  of  performance  and  endurance ;  with  bright  intel- 
lects, capable  of  reasoning  and  judging,  of  comparing  and 
reflecting.  God  has  given  men  the  sense  of  beauty,  and 
made  the  earth  full  of  it,  that  this  sense  might  have  exer- 
cise. He  has  given  us  poetry  and  imagination,  wit  and 
mirth ;  and  do  you  suppose  he  did  not  mean  they  should 
be  used?  There  is  nothing  profane  in  the  human  soul; 
nothing  common  or  unclean.  It  is  all  through  the  temple 
of  God  ;  and  it  is  sacrilege  to  waste  or  neglect  or  injure  any 
part  of  it.  If  a  thief  breaks  into  a  Catholic  church,  and 
steals  a  necklace  from  the  doll  image  which  stands  for  the 
Virgin,  it  is  considered  not  only  wrong  as  theft,  but  horribly 
sinful  as  sacrilege.  He  might  rob  a  poor  family,  and  leave 
them  to  starve,  and  it  would  not  be  thought  half  as  bad  as 
to  take  this  useless  ornament.  But  this  same  church,  and 
other  churches  too,  encourage  a  form  of  religion  which 
crushes  down  a  large  part  of  those  faculties  in  man  which 
are  the  ornament  and  glory  of  the  human  soul.  They  con- 
sider such  repression  as  only  a  proper  self-denial.  But  if 
man  is  the  "  temple  of  God,"  then  why  is  it  not  the  worst 
sacrilege  to  starve  or  crush  any  of  his  faculties,  —  those 
powers  with  which  he  serves  and  worships  God  most  ac- 
ceptably ? 

''  Grow  up  in  all  things,  thereforei"  True  education  is 
worship.     Right  development  is  the  service  of  God. 

This  doctrine  of  universal  development,  as  the  aim  and 
end  of  man's  being,  was  taught  perhaps  more  fully,  and 
exemplified   most   entirely,  in   modern   times,   by  the  great 


106  GROW   UP. 

German  poet  Goethe.  He  framed  his  whole  life  on  that 
idea.  His  object  was  self-development.  Accordingly,  he 
was  not  satisfied  with  the  triumphs  he  obtained  in  poetry 
and  literature  ;  but  he  devoted  himself  to  science,  and  won 
new  distinctions  there.  He  also  educated  himself  to  busi- 
ness, and  became  one  of  the  most  practical  and  sensible  of 
the  ministers  of  the  Grand  Duke.  He  spent  a  long  life  in 
this  process  of  self-development.  Let  him  have  the  credit 
of  it.  Certainly  it  was  a  far  more  noble  end  than  the  mere 
pursuit  of  fame,  of  fortune,  or  of  power.  He  sacrificed 
fame,  fortune,  and  power,  when  they  came  in  conflict  with 
this  object.  His  life,  thus  devoted,  "  without  haste  or  rest,'* 
to  tills  one  large  and  deep  idea,  is  a  lesson  to  mankind  of  a 
truer  use  of  genius  than  genius  often  shows. 

Yet  we  must  add  that  this  is  not  all.  There  is  something 
more.  "  Grow  up"  "  Grow  up  in  all  things  ;  "  but  also 
''  grow  up  in  all  things  into  him  who  is  our  Head,  even 
Christ."  This  is  what  Goethe,  with  all  his  wisdom,  failed 
to  see.  This  is  what  makes  the  apostolic  maxim  wiser  than 
his.  To  grow  up  is  an  end,  but  not  the  final  end.  Grow 
up,  in  order  to  grow  up  into  Christ.  That  is,  since  Christ 
is  another  name  for  generous  Love,  cultivate  and  unfold  all 
powers  in  order  to  do  good,  for  the  sake  of  helping,  saving, 
inspiring,  guiding,  animating,  encouraging  other  souls.  De- 
velop all  your  powers,  but  for  universal  usefulness. 

In  my  youth,  I  had  a  friend  who  was  a  woman  of  genius. 
She  studied  Goethe,  and  was  thoroughly  familiar  with  his 
thought.  She  also  adopted  it  as  her  rule,  and  said  she  early 
learned  that  the  only  object  of  life  was  to  grow.  Witli  won- 
derful, untiring  energy,  she  pursued  this  end,  and  cultivated 
every  power  and  faculty  to  the  highest  point.  She  was  an 
extraordinary  woman,  yet  not  then  altogether  a  satisfactory 
woman.  There  was  something  haughty  and  self-reliant, 
some  absence  of  sympathy,  some  contempt  for  common 
people,   wiiicli    hurt  you    in    intercourse  with   her.     To   her 


GROW   UP.  107 

friends,  she  was  all  generosity ;  but  to  others,  indifferent 
and  iinsympathizing.  But  God  did  not  mean  that  such  a 
noble  soul  should  stop  there.  Being  so  much,  he  meant  she 
should  be  more  ;  and  so  he  took  her  through  a  deep  experi- 
ence of  weakness  and  sorrow,  through  lonely  days,  through 
poverty  and  pain  ;  and,  at  last,  she  had  learned  to  add  this 
crowning  grace  of  human  sympathy  and  tenderness  to  all  the 
rest.  She  grew  up  into  Christ,  and  devoted  all  these  ripe 
and  rich  powers  to  the  cause  of  his  poor,  his  wounded  and 
prisoners,  his  enslaved  and  oppressed  ones  ;  and  so  the  wo- 
man of  genius  became  at  last  also  the  Christian  woman, 
risen  with  Christ,  and  sitting  in  heavenly  places  with  him. 

One  method  of  growth  is  mentioned  in  the  text — "Speak- 
ing the  truth  in  love."  It  is  not  usually  thought  that  growth 
comes  by  "  speaking : "  it  is  thought  we  get  our  Christian 
growth  rather  by  hearing  truth  than  by  uttering  it.  '  If  we 
were  to  exhort  a  church  now,  we  should  be  more  likely  to 
say  to  it,  "  Hearing  the  truth  meekly,  grow  up  into  Christ." 
But  Paul  was  not  in  the  habit  of  writing  without  a  clear 
meaning  ;  and  he  meant  Avhat  he  said,  that  the  Church  should 
grow  by  speaking  as  well  as  by  hearing.  If  hearing  truth 
is  our  food,  speaking  it  is  our  exercise.  We  need  exercise, 
as  well  as  food,  in  order  to  grow ;  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
we  see  that  only  those  really  grow  up  into  a  manly  stature 
who  have  the  courage  and  loyalty  which  make  them  speak 
the  truth  which  they  have  seen.  This  is  the  daily  gymnas- 
tic exercise  of  the  Christian,  —  to  utter  faithfully,  by  action 
and  word,  his  convictions,  in  the  presence  of  those  who  do 
not  share  them  ;  to  testify  to  the  truth,  whether  men  will 
hear  or  forbear  :  to  be  a  burninoj  and  a  shininf?  liofht  in  the 
world ;  and  yet  to  do  all  this,  not  ostentatiously,  but  mod- 
estly ;  not  sharply,  but  kindly  ;  not  in  severity,  but  in  love. 
If  the  spirit  of  Christ  dwells  in  us,  a  spirit  of  truth  and  love, 
we  can  do  it.  We  see  men  who  can  do  it,  and  perhaps 
oftener  women.     We  see  those  who  contrive  to  be  faithful 


108  GROW  UP. 

without  giving  offence  ;  who  can  say  truth  which  is  like  a 
sharp  sword,  and  yet  say  it  so  lovingly  and  gently  that  no 
cue  can  be  displeased.  Such  people  are  the  salt  of  the 
earth ;  and  while  they  keep  it  from  decay,  while  they  pre- 
serve society  pure,  and  public  opinion  sound,  they  grow  up 
themselves  in  all  things  into  Christ.  They  become  more 
Christ-like  every  day,  more  divine  and  more  human,  more 
near  to  God  and  to  us.  They  fill  us  with  their  peace,  joy, 
and  trust.  They  make  life  more  hopeful  and  precious  to 
us  all. 


XI. 

LIFE  WEARINESS. 

Eccles.  i.  2:  "Vanity  of  vanities,  saith  the  Preacher,  vanity 
OF  vanities  ;  all  is  vanity." 

TO  one  man,  everything  is  vanity ;  to  another,  nothing. 
To  Solomon,  satiated  with  pleasure,  the  world  seemed 
very  empty  ;  but  to  every  earnest  man  and  woman  it  is  very 
full  and  significant.  Scepticism  finds  no  meaning  in  life  ; 
but  faith,  hope,  and  love  find  life  very  full  of  meaning.  We 
are  all  of  us  sometimes  like  King  Solomon,  and  say,  "  All  is 
vanity  ;  "  but  we  are  also  all  of  us  sometimes  like  Paul,  and 
say,  "  All  things  work  together  for  good  to  those  who  love 
God."  In  other  words,  life  seems  very  empty  and  very 
weary  to  those  who  live  one  way  ;  but  very  rich,  full,  and 
significant  to  those  who  live  in  another  way. 

I  know  no  greater  misery  than  this  condition  of  life-weari- 
ness. It  is  not  a  very  uncommon  state  of  mind.  It  happens 
more  often  with  the  young  than  with  older  persons.  They 
are  tired  of  life  before  they  have  begun  to  live.  Such  is  the 
state  of  the  present  generation.  They  are  "  born  fatigued," 
as  some  one  says.  Children  in  their  early  teens  write 
verses,  in  which  they  declare  themselves  to  have  exhausted 
life.  They  have  seen  everything,  and  nothing  is  of  value. 
*'  Omnia  fui,  nihil  expedit,"  as  a  Roman  emperor  said. 
They  have  just  come  to  the  feast,  and  are  already  satisfied. 

The  pretence,  the  affectation,  the  assumption,  of  this  state 
of  mind  is  ridiculous  enough  ;  but  sometimes  it  is  considered 

(109) 


110  LIFE   WEARINESS. 

a  religious  duty  to  take  no  interest  in  anything.  A  Chris- 
tian, it  is  supposed,  ought  not  to  care  for  anything  but  the 
world  to  come.  He  should  abstract  himself  from  this  life 
and  all  its  interests,  and  think  only  of  death  and  eternity. 
This  theory  of  Christianity  seems  to  assume  that  God  did 
not  make  this  world  ;  that  God  is  not  in  it ;  that  there  is  no 
such  thing  as  Providence  arranging  life,  and  guiding  it.  For 
if  this  world  is  God's  world  ;  if  God  is  in  it,  around  us, 
above  us,  beneath,  within,  —  then  life,  the  present  life,  being 
full  of  God,  is  the  life  eternal.  Then  he  who  despises  it 
despises  God.  Such  is  the  impiety  belonging  to  all  forms 
of  monastic  religion  ;  to  the  monasticism  of  Protestantism, 
no  less  than  that  of  Catholicism.  A  Catholic  monk  may  live 
apart  from  the  world,  and  yet  not  despise  it :  but  how  many 
Protestants  there  are,  believing  themselves  pious  because 
they  look  with  austere  eyes  on  all  the  joy  and  activity  of 
the  world ;  on  all  the  gayety  of  youth  ;  on  all  the  glory  of 
nature,  the  beauty  of  art,  the  achievements  of  genius  ;  on  all 
the  humble  pleasures  of  the  uneducated  but  honest  children 
of  God,  who  receive  life  as  a  gift  from  his  hands  not  to  be 
despised !  Because  Solomon,  blase  with  pleasure,  a  mere 
voluptuary,  a  self-indulgent  man  of  the  world,  heaping  up 
knowledge  simply  for  his  own  enjoyment,  —  because  he 
found  life  at  last  empty,  therefore  it  is  supposed  to  be  the 
duty  of  Christian  men  and  women  to  despise  this  great  gift 
of  God  to  us  all. 

Sometimes  also  it  is  thought  to  be  very  sagacious  to  be 
cynical,  and  to  sneer  at  life  as  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable. 
A  person  takes  a  position  of  superiority,  as  though  he  was 
a('(iMainted  with  many  worlds,  and,  on  the  whole,  thought 
tills  a  poor  one.  To  despise  the  world  is  taken  as  a  proof 
iluit  one  knows  the  world  very  well.  Therefore  certain  per- 
sons indulge  themselves  in  an  amiable  misanthropy.  They 
are  very  good  and  kind  at  heart ;  but  they  love  to  talk  of 
the  degeneracy  of  the   times,  to  say  tliat  the  former   days 


LIFE   WEARINESS.  Ill 

were  better  than  these,  to  declare  the  world  going  to  decay. 
I  rode  to  town  last  summer,  sitting  fifteen  minutes  by  the 
side  of  one  of  these  gentlemen  :  ^nd  I  was  told  more  about 
the  desperate  state  of  the  times  than  I  had  learned  in  ten 
years  before.  He  told  me  that  there  was  no  virtue  in  public 
men  now,  no  knowledge  in  scholars,  no  taste  in  writers,  no 
piety  or  capacity  in  preachers,  no  good  anywhere.  I  told 
him  that  there  was  comfort  then  ;  that  such  a  desperate 
state  of  things  must  be  the  sign  of  Christ's  coming.  He 
thought  not :  he  thought  Christ  would  not  condescend  to 
come  to  a  generation  that  had  deserted  all  the  old  conserva- 
tive landmarks,  as  this  had  done.  So  differently  do  we  see 
things  !  I  had  lived  among  those  whose  faces  were  to  the' 
future  ;  who  saw  the  mighty  rose  of  dawn  in  the  easteru 
sky,  like  the  face  of  God  himself;  and  who  thanked  God 
every  day  for  being  permitted  to  live  in  such  a  time.  Mean- 
while my  conservative  neighbor  was  looking  the  other  way 
into  the  departing  night,  and  grieving  for  the  secession  of 
the  owls  and  bats. 

What  makes  life  seem  empty?  and  what,  on  the  other 
hand,  makes  it  seem  rich  and  full? 

Genius,  the  universal  artist,  has  painted  four  pictures  of 
this  disease  of  life-weariness,  and  hung  them  in  the  galleries 
of  human  thought,  to  Avarn  us  forever  of  the  dangers  that  lie 
in  this  direction  of  intellectual  despair. 

First,  the  genius  of  inspiration  has  painted  for  us,  in  the 
book  of  Ecclesiastes,  the  portrait  of  Solomon,  as  the  first 
type  of  this  terrible  disease.  The  book  of  Ecclesiastes  is  full 
of  this  dreary  scepticism.  Solomon  had  tried  everything, 
—  riches,  power,  pleasure,  knowledge,  —  and  found  them  all 
vanity  ;  and  so  he  went  about  to  despair  of  all  his  labor 
which  he  had  taken  under  the  sun.  Why?  Because  of  his 
gigantic  egotism  ;  because  he  had  made  himself  the  centre 
of  all  things;  because  he  had  brought  everything  —  wealth, 
knowledge,  pleasure  —  to  Solomon  to  try  ;  because  he  had 


112  LIFE   WEARINESS. 

considered  the  world  made  for  him,  instead  of  considering 
himself  made  for  the  world.  Therefore  this  desperate 
gloom,  this  black  darkness  of  doubt.  For  it  is  with  us  in 
life  as  with  the  systems  of  Ptolemy  and  Copernicus.  Con- 
sider your  own  earth  in  the  middle  of  the  universe,  and  re- 
gard all  the  suns,  planets,  and  stars  as  moving  around  you 
as  their  centre,  and  the  most  inextricable  confusion  results. 
There  is  only  an  unmeaning  going  forward  and  backward 
among  the  planets,  endless  tangles  of  curves,  without  object 
and  without  result.  But  go  out  of  this  subjective  theory, 
identify  yourself  with  universal  law,  conceive  of  the  sun  as 
the  centre,  and  your  planet,  as  well  as  others,  to  go  round 
it,  and  all  becomes  fair  and  lovely  in  the  planetary  move- 
ments ;  all  is  full  of  charm,  and  a  divine  order  reigns  in  the 
deep  heavens.  So  when  we  put  ourselves  morally  in  the 
centre  of  things,  and  consider  everything  meant  to  revolve 
round  us,  all  is  confusion  in  the  moral  world ;  and  not  till 
we  make  God  the  centre,  and  follow  his  attraction  in  our 
orbit  of  obedience  and  faith,  does  order  arise  out  of  the 
seeming  contradictions  of  our  life. 

I  consider,  therefore,  the  book  of  Ecclesiastes  as  an 
inspired  picture  of  a  great  scepticism,  born  of  a  great  self- 
seeking. 

A  second  picture  is  given  us  by  Shakspeare  in  "Hamlet." 
That  wonderful  master  has  shown  his  knowledge  of  human 
nature  in  nothing  more  than  in  being  able  to  project  himself 
out  of  his  own  time,  which  was  one  of  action  and  endeavor, 
into  an  age  not  yet  arrived,  in  which  thought  was  in  excess 
over  life  ;  an  age  "  sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought." 
Hamlet  belongs  to  our  time,  rather  than  to  the  day  of  Shak- 
speare.    His  disease  is  one  we  know  very  well.     AVhen  he 

says, — 

"  How  weary,  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable 
Seem  to  rae  all  the  uses  of  this  world!  "  — 

he  says  just    what  Solomon   said,  but  not  from   the   same 


LIFE  WEARINESS.  113 

motive.  It  was  not  a  gigantic  despair,  born  of  a  gigantic 
selfishness  ;  but  it  was  one  which  came  from  the  ideal  and 
imaginative  nature  being  developed  out  of  all  proportion  to 
the  active.  If  a  man  is  always  thinking  of  great  things 
which  may  be  done,  noble  deeds,  vast  creations,  a  beautiful 
life  to  lead,  a  good  character  to  form,  and  never  begins  to  do 
anything,  then  he  falls  at  last  into  a  condition  like  that  of 
Hamlet.  The  cure  for  this  is  to  do  something,  —  some  con- 
scientious, faithful  work,  —  some  thorough,  steady,  regular 
occupation.  For  to  be  always  thinking  of  what  ought  to  be 
done,  and  never  doing  it,  is  sure  to  end  in  despondency  and 
madness  at  last. 

Then,  in  our  day,  two  other  highly  gifted  poets  have  given 
us  the  same  picture  of  life-weariness,  but  springing  from  yet 
another  root.  Goethe  in  his  "  Faust,"  and  Byron  in  his 
"  Childe  Harold,"  have  painted  the  malady  of  the  century 
then  passing  away.  The  disease  of  the  eighteenth  century 
was  the  want  of  faith.  It  did  not  brieve  in  God.  I  do  not 
mean  that  it  was  irreligious  :  it  was  sufficiently  religious  in 
the  sense  of  attending  to  religious  forms  and  ceremonies.  It 
built  hundreds  of  churches  in  England,  precise,  formal,  the 
image  of  that  religion,  the  essence  of  which  was  propriety  ;  * 
but  it  believed  in  religion,  not  in  God.  As  has  been  well 
said,  "  Instead  of  having  God  for  its  religion,  it  had  religion 
for  its  God."  The  Father,  the  Friend,  the  Divine  Provi- 
dence, the  Spirit  which  has  its  seat  in  every  soul,  the  Love 
which  moves  in  the  depth  of  every  heart,  the  Divinity  which 
shapes  our  ends,  —  this  God  had  disappeared  from  the  faith 

*  "  Mamma,"  said  a  little  English  girl  to  her  mother,  "  is  not  Mr. 
A.  a  very  wicked  man  ?  " 

"No,  my  dear  :  why  do  you  think  so ?  " 

"  Because  he  never  puts  his  face  into  his  hat  when  he  comes  into 
his  pew  at  church." 

The  anecdote  gives  a  very  good  idea  of  the  old-fashioned  Church 
of  England  religion. 

8 


114  LIFE   WEARINESS. 

of  the  eighteenth  century ;  and  therefore  the  nineteenth  was 
born  an  orphan  child,  "  without  God  and  hope  in  the  world." 
This  state  of  things  Goethe  painted  in  his  "  Faust,"  and 
Byron  in  "  Cliilde  Harold."  The  immense  popularity  of 
these  two  books  came  from  their  exposing  the  condition  of 
every  heart.  The  first  step  towards  cure  was  taken  when 
the  disease  was  fully  painted.  Faust,  rich  in  all  genius  and 
knowledge,  had  lost  his  childlike  faith.  The  Easter  bells, 
and  the  Easter  song  of  the  women  and  angels,  touch  his 
heart  only  through  the  memory.  When  they  sing  outside 
of  his  study,  "  Christ  is  arisen,  the  joy  of  those  who  love  !  " 
Faust  replies,  "  I  hear  you,  O  heavenly  tones,  mighty  and 
tender  !  I  hear  the  message  well ;  but  faith  is  wanting  in 
my  heart.     My  tears  flow  ;  but  the  earth  claims  me  again." 

"  Without  God,  and  without  hope  in  the  world,"  —  such 
was  the  life  as  well  the  song  of  the  greatest  English  poet  of 
the  century,  whose  wonderful  genius  uttered  only  one  long 
wail  of  despair.  On  him  all  gifts  of  nature  and  fortune  were 
wholly  wasted.  To  him  poetry  brought  no  calm ;  love,  no 
joy ;  success,  no  peace.  His  human  heart,  made  for  God, 
and  having  no  God,  broke,  because  it  was  so  alone  in  the 
world.* 

We  have  seen  what  makes  life  empty.  Now  we  can  see 
what  makes  it  rich  and  full. 

First,  plenty  of  work  makes  it  full.  The  day-laborer,  who 
lives  close  to  Nature  in  his  regularity  of  toil,  who  goes  out 
of  himself  in  steady,  continuous  action,  has  health  and  con- 

*  Very  well  to  Byron  applies  what  Mrs.  Browning  says  so  tenderly 
of  Cowper :  — 

"  While  thus  guided,  lie  remained 
Unconscious  of  tlie  f^uidiug  ; 
And  thingfs  provided  came,  without 

The  sweet  sense  of  providing. 
He  testified  the  solemn  truth, 
Though  frenzy  desolated, — 
Nor  man  nor  nature  satisfy 
What  only  God  created." 


LIFE   WEARINESS.  115 

tent  in  his  heart,  born  of  daily  work.  When  we  pray, 
"  Give  us  to-day  our  daily  bread,"  we  may  well  pray  that  it 
may  be  given  to  us  in  healthy  toil.  Work  is  the  real  bread 
which  comes  down  from  heaven ;  and  is  gathered  every 
morning  by  man,  going  forth  to  his  labor.  Work  gives 
balance  and  regularity  to  all  the  movements  of  the  soul.  It 
drives  all  diseased  fancies  out  of  the  mind.  The  condition, 
however,  is,  that  it  shall  be  really  work,  not  the  show  of  it ; 
that  we  shall  put  ourselves  wholly  into  it  for  the  time  ;  that 
we  shall  not  work  mechanically  nor  reluctantly,  but  with 
our  thoughts  present,  our  heart  in  it  as  well  as  our  hands. 
To  be  doing  one  thing,  and  thinking  of  something  else,  is 
very  bad  for  the  soul.  I  have  lately  been  reading  the  "  Biog- 
raphies of  English  Iron-workers  and  Tool-makers  "  (a  most 
interesting  book),  by  Smiles,  in  which  he  describes  such  men 
as  Bramah  and  Nasmyth,  who  put  their  whole  mind  into 
what  they  did,  and  so  became  really  heroic  characters. 
From  the  smut  and  blackness  of  the  forge  and  machine- 
shop,  they  came  out  the  strong  leaders  of  England,  in  its 
march  of  civilization.  While  the  aristocracy  of  the  land 
were  wasting  its  strength  in  foolish  wars  of  conquest,  these 
men  were  adding,  by  industrial  inventions,  a  hundred  million 
of  men  to  its  power,  and  thousands  of  millions  of  pounds 
sterling  to  its  wealth.  They  are  the  creators  of  the  strength 
and  wealth  of  England  to-day. 

Necessary  labor  is  the  great  blessing  of  life  to  the  mass  of 
men,  the  great  educator  of  character  to  all  men.  Labor, 
into  which  thought  and  heart  go,  is  the  moral  salvation  of 
us  all.  We  can  never  do  without  it.  In  the  midst  of  all 
care  and  trial,  w^ork  keeps  us  healthy  and  happy.  After 
Nasmyth  had  invented  the  steam-hammer,  which  can  cut  in 
two  a  log  of  iron,  weld  an  anchor,  or  crack  a  nut  without 
bruising  the  meat,  he  gave  up  this  business,  and  rested  him- 
self by  making  a  telescope,  and  studying  the  heavens  ;  and 
he  has  already,  within  a  year  or  two,  made  some  remarkable 


116  LIFE  WEARINESS. 

discoveries  in  the  solar  atmosphere,  which  Sir  John  Herschel 
dechires  to  be  among  the  greatest  discoveries  of  the  time. 

Work,  then,  makes  life  rich  and  full. 

But  so  also  does  love.  Passion,  appetite,  desire,  devastate 
the  soul,  and  leave  it  a  desert ;  but  love,  which  goes  out  of 
itself,  which  takes  a  hearty  interest  in  others,  which  seeks 
every  opportunity  of  helping  those  who  need  help,  which  is 
ingenious  in  resources  to  bless  and  comfort  the  sorrowing 
and  needy,  —  this  keeps  "the  world's  unwithered  counte- 
nance fresh  as  on  creation's  day."  Friendship  makes  the 
earth  seem  rich  and  full.  To  know  that  there  are  some 
souls,  hearts,  and  minds,  here  and  there,  who  trust  us,  and 
whom  we  trust ;  some  who  know  us,  and  whom  we  know  ; 
some  on  whom  we  can  always  rely,  and  who  will  always 
rely  on  us,  —  makes  a  paradise  of  this  great  world.  O  soli- 
tary and  bereaved  hearts,  who  feel  yourselves  lonely  !  believe 
that  there  is  this  solace,  if  you  seek  it.  Go  and  help  in  any 
good  work,  with  earnest  good  will,  and  you  will  find  that 
those  wlio  are  working  there  in  the  same  spirit  have  be- 
come your  friends.  Do  not  seek  to  be  loved,  but  seek  to 
be  and  do  something  really  good,  and  love  will  come  of 
itself;  for  here,  as  always,  it  is  truest,  that,  if  you  "  give,  it 
shall  be  given  you,  —  full  measure,  pressed  down,  and  run- 
ning over." 

That  which  makes  this  earth  seem  solid,  and  not  empty, 
is  not  the  rocks  and  mountains  that  are  in  it,  but  the  love 
that  is  in  it.  The  only  really  solid  thing  in  this  universe  is 
love.  This  makes  our  life  really  life.  This  makes  us  im- 
mortal while  we  are  here.  Tliis  makes  us  sure  that  death 
is  no  end,  but  only  a  beginning,  to  us  and  to  all  we  love. 
God  showers  this  blessing  on  us  day  by  day,  if  we  will  only 
receive  it.  He  sends  us  messages  of  his  love  in  the  moruing 
planets  and  the  rosy  clouds  of  the  early  day.  He  sends  us 
messages  of  love  in  the  fresh  air  which  kisses  our  cheek  ;  in 
the  sweet  little  children  around  our  path  ;  in  the  dear  friends 


LIFE  WEARINESS.  117 

who  make  life  full  of  interest  and  charm ;  in  the  opportuni- 
ties of  usefulness,  of  improvement,  of  progress,  which  come 
hour  by  hour,  day  by  day ;  in  all  the  grand  events  of  his- 
tory ;  in  the  noble  struggles  of  our  nation  in  this  hour  of 
trial ;  in  the  grand  courage  of  our  brothers  and  sons,  going 
to  lay  doAvn  their  lives  for  their  dear  mother-laud.  God's 
infinite  love  comes  to  us  daily  in  all  these  events  and  oppor- 
tunities ;  and  how  can  any  one  say  that  "  all  is  vanity," 
when  such  inspirations  are  open  to  the  soul? 

Love,  therefore,  joining  hands  with  faith  and  work,  makes 
our  life  rich  and  full.  These  three,  neither  of  them  alone  ; 
work  which  is  done  in  love,  love  which  is  born  of  faith. 
And  it  is  a  blessed  thing,  that,  the  longer  we  live  thus,  the 
more  beautiful  the  world  becomes,  the  more  rich  and  pre- 
cious our  life  seems.  It  is  the  young  who  are  oftenest  tired 
of  life.  As  we  live  on,  we  seem  to  grow  younger,  not  older  ; 
we  find  ourselves  coming  nearer  to  God  and  man  ;  we  grow 
more  like  little  children  in  our  hearts.  Therefore  we  see  so 
often  that  beautiful  picture  of  old  age  and  childhood  forming 
the  loveliest  friendship  ;  the  old  man  with  white  hair,  and 
with  the  wisdom  of  years  treasured  up  in  his  large  experi- 
ence, being  the  companion  and  best  friend  of  little  curly- 
headed  boys  and  girls,  who  are  never  so  happy  as  with  him. 
Beautiful  is  age  when  it  does  not  grow  hard  and  cold,  but 
grows  evermore  full  of  faith  and  love.  The  old  man  looks 
backward  through  a  life  in  which  he  has  learned  to  know 
the  wonders  of  Nature,  to  know  the  heart  and  thoughts  of 
many  varieties  of  human  character ;  in  which  he  has  done 
his  part  in  the  world  in  his  own  place,  doing  faithfully  what- 
ever he  has  done.  He  looks  back  over  the  long  perspective, 
and  he  sees  how  kindly  God  has  led  him  on ;  how  he  has 
been  taught  by  disappointment  and  success  ;  how  he  has 
gone  deep  into  his  own  heart,  gathered  up  wisdom,  become 
truly  free  by  self-control  and  self-direction ;  he  sees  how  he 
has  ceased  to  think  of  God  as  Power  and  Law,  and  come  to 


118  LIFE  WEARINESS. 

think  of  him  as  Friend  and  Father.  And  so  he  wonders  that 
he  ever  could  have  been  weary  of  life  ;  so  he  feels  the  infinite 
riches  of  the  universe  ;  so  he  thanks  God,  not  with  words, 
but  in  the  depths  of  a  happy  heart,  for  the  gift  of  existence  ; 
so  he  looks  on  all  things  as  God  looked  on  them,  when  he 
made  them,  and  says,  "  It  is  all  good." 
Thus  we  see  how,  by  true  living,  — 

"  More  and  more  a  providence 
Of  love  is  understood ; 
Making  the  springs  of  time  and  sense 
Sweet  with  eternal  good^'* 


XIL 

THE    FRAGMENTS. 
John  vi.  12:  "Gather  up  the   fragments  that  remain,  that 

NOTHING   BE   LOST." 

TWO  facts  strike  us  in  regard  to  Nature :  one  is  its 
exuberance ;  the  other,  its  economy. 
The  exuberance  of  Nature  appears  everywhere.  There  is 
everywhere  a  surplus,  —  a  large  margin  over  and  above 
what  is  necessary.  In  what  immense  spaces  the  planets 
swim  through  the  heavens  !  The  moon,  nearest  to  us,  is 
two  hundred  thousand  miles  away.  What  vast  spaces  in 
the  universe  are  empty  of  planet,  sun  or  star,  comet  or 
nebula!  Then,  on  the  earth,  what  latitude  is  given  to  the 
ocean  !  What  vast  portions  of  every  continent  are  empty ! 
China,  wdth  its  three  hundred  millions  of  inhabitants,  has 
great  forests,  deserts,  and  mountains,  where  no  one  dwells. 
Massachusetts  is  much  the  most  densely  settled  State  in  the 
Union  ;  but,  if  you  ride  on  the  cars  from  Boston  to  Provi- 
dence, it  seems,  for  a  great  part  of  the  way,  as  if  you  were 
going  through  an  uninhabited  country.  New  York,  with  its 
three  millions  of  people,  Pennsylvania  and  Ohio,  each  with 
their  two  millions,  have  enough  rich  farming  land  and  wood- 
land to  give  homes  to  the  whole  population  of  the  United 
States,  and  leave  room  enough  for  twice  as  many  more. 
What  quantities  of  trees  grow,  stand,  fall,  and  decay,  unused 
and  unseen  by  man !  What  flowers  come  and  go  every 
summer  day  in  the  thousand  valleys,  never  noticed  !     What 

(119) 


120  THE   FRAGMENTS. 

fruit  ripens  and  falls  uneaten  by  man  or  beast !  What 
myriads  of  seeds  are  produced  for  one  that  germinates  ! 
How  luxuriant  is  the  aspect  of  nature  !  —  its  infinite  show- 
ers of  light ;  its  treasures  of  rain  and  snow  ;  its  abundance 
of  everything  ;  its  generous  superfluity,  — 

"Wild  above  rule  or  art,  enormous  bliss !" 

So  in  the  nature  of  man  is  the  same  exuberance,  the  same 
abundance  in  his  faculties  and  his  experience.  Our  life  is 
not  tied  down  to  any  mechanical  rigor  of  performance.  We 
have  time  enough,  opportunity  enough,  faculty  enough,  for 
everything.  What  we  cannot  do  to-day,  we  can  do  to-morrow. 
What  we  cannot  do  one  way,  we  can  do  another.  There  is 
plenty  of  everything  in  human  nature.  One  thing  only  we 
need  ;  and  that  is  faith  in  it,  —  faith  in  the  nature  God  has 
given  us,  its  capacities  and  possibilities.  Faith  is  the  golden 
key  which  unlocks  this  splendid  treasury,  the  human  soul. 
Whatever  is  right  and  good,  Avhatever  the  instinct  of  the 
heart  tells  us  to  do,  believe  that  we  are  able  to  do  it,  and  we 
can  do  it. 

How  much  there  is  in  man,  has  never  been  discovered. 
The  maximum  of  human  attainments  has  not  been  reached. 
Napoleon  did  a  great  deal ;  but  he  seemed  to  himself  to  be 
idle.  He  might  have  done  a  great  deal  more.  Theodore 
Parker,  one  of  the  severest  workers  we  ever  had  in  America, 
declared  that  he  had  left  half  his  faculties  unused.  The  great- 
est saint  is  conscious  to  himself  of  how  much  better  he  might 
be  than  he  is  ;  and  so  he  calls  himself  the  chief  of  sinners. 
The  great  poet  or  artist  knows  that  his  noblest  deed  has  had 
another,  — 

*'  Of  briglit  imaghiation  born,  — 
A  loftier  and  a  nobler  brother, 
From  dear  existence  torn." 

One  of  Milton's  sonnets,  written  at  twenty-three  years  of 
age,  laments  his  own  backwardness,  and  his  late  spring  that 


THE  FRAGMENTS.  121 

shows  no  bud  or  blossom.     If  he  had  known  what  he  was  to 
do  before  he  died,  he  might  have  been  patient. 

Time,  also,  is  given  us  in  profusion.  We  often  say  we 
have  no  time  for  this  or  that ;  but  we  usually  say  what  is 
not  true.  Every  one  has  ten  times  as  much  time  as  he  uses. 
No  one  has  ever  put  into  a  day  a  hundredth  part  of  what  he 
might.  One  day  would  be  enough  to  think  evei7thing,  feel 
everything,  and  do  everything  we  need  to  in  this  world,  if  we 
were  only  fully  alive,  full  enough  of  soul,  to  make  its  hours 
crowded  with  glorious  life.  Did  you  ever  see  a  letter  from 
any  one  to  a  distant  friend,  which  did  not  begin  with  this 
apology  :  "I  ought  to  have  written  to  you  sooner  ;  but  I  had 
no  time  "  ?  It  is  almost  always  a  falsehood.  It  should  be, 
"  I  had  not  the  will,  I  had  not  the  heart,  I  had  not  the  confi- 
dence in  myself,  nor  the  trust  that  things  would  come  to  me 
to  say.  My  mind  has  seemed  empty."  That  is  the  true 
reason  ;  but  we  make  believe  it  is  a  want  of  time.  No  :  time 
is  inexhaustible  to  a  living  soul.  Only  let  the  soul  be  suffi- 
ciently full  of  life,  and  a  moment  seems  like  a  year. 

To  be  sure,  there  is  a  certain  amount  of  time  required  for 
all  merely  mechanical  work ;  but,  for  soul-work,  there  is 
always  time  enough,  if  we  only  find  soul  enough.  It  takes 
me  fifteen  minutes  to  come  from  the  town  in  which  I  live  to 
Boston  ;  and  I  do  not  see  how  that  can  be  abridged :  but, 
when  I  reach  Boston,  I  go  to  see  some  noble  person,  some  . 
dear  friend,  or  some  earnest,  generous  spirit ;  or  I  go  to  the 
home  of  sorrow  and  trial ;  and,  in  one  minute,  I  live  a 
whole  year  of  thought  or  sympathy  or  purpose.  One  second 
is  long  enough  to  change  the  current  of  life,  —  to  turn  us 
upward  towards  heaven,  or  downward  towards  hell.  The 
critical  moments  of  life  are  not  to  be  measured  by  the  watch 
or  the  almanac.  We  look  back  over  weary  years,  empty  of 
all  interest,  to  some  few  golden  moments  when  we  really 
lived.  Those  moments  of  pure  insight,  of  pure  love,  of  real 
action,  —  those  made  our  life :  all  the  rest  is  nothing. 
"What  is  the  chaff  to  the  wheat?" 


122  THE   FRAGMENTS. 

We  have,  therefore,  not  only  enough  of  everything,  but 
more  than  enough,  and  a  great  deal  more  than  enough.  The 
busiest  person  has  some  golden,  precious  moments  of  leisure, 
worth  far  more  than  the  long  days  of  the  idle  man. 

Consider  the  life  of  Jesus.  His  active  recorded  life  is 
thought  to  have  been,  at  most,  three  years :  probably  it  was 
not  much  more  than  one  year.  But  because  he  had  faith  in 
God,  and  confidence  in  himself,  his  overflowing  soul  filled 
those  few  months  so  full  of  thought  and  love,  that  the  four 
Gospels,  the  sacred  books  of  mankind,  could  only  take  up 
and  record  for  us  a  small  part  of  it.  If  everything  had  been 
written,  "  the  world  itself  could  not  contain  the  books  that 
should  be  written."  That  is  hardly  an  hyperbole.  Of 
course,  it  could  not.  Why,  what  Jesus  said  and  did  each 
day,  during  the  twelve  hours,  was  all  memorable.  We  have 
only  gathered  up  a  few  shells  by  the  side  of  that  ocean  of 
truth  and  love.  We  arc  riparian  proprietors,  so  to  speak, 
dwelling  on  a  little  bit  of  the  shore,  and  looking  out  over  a 
small  portion  of  the  surface  of  the  immeasurable  sea  which 
bathes  all  the  continents  of  earth. 

But  thus,  while  nature  and  life  are  so  exuberant,  the  diffi- 
culty is  that  we  waste  them  both.  Therefore  the  lesson  of  our 
text :  *'  Let  nothing  be  lost."     Count  nothing  insignificant. 

This  lesson  is  also  taught  by  Nature,  throughout  whose 
boundless  profusion  and  royal  abundance  there  reigns  an 
equally  austere  economy.  God  gathers  up  in  Nature  the 
fragments,  and  allows  nothing  to  be  lost.  Not  a  comet, 
escaped  from  its  elliptic  restraint,  and  shooting  off  on  a  par- 
abolic or  hyperbolic  curve  into  outer  darkness,  but  Nature 
reaches  out  after  it  with  the  long  arm  of  gravitation,  whose 
fingers  are  fine  enough  to  catch  the  minutest  particle  of  im- 
palpable ether,  and  strong  enough  to  hold  in  their  places  the 
enormous  masses  of  planets  and  suns.  Not  a  drop  of  rain, 
falling  in  primeval  showers  to  water  Eden,  but  has  been 
kept  safe  till  now.  It  escaped  into  the  sod,  it  filtered 
through  the  sand  ;  but  it  was  taken   into   the  company  of 


THE  FRAGMENTS.  123 

Other  drops,  and  carried  in  hidden  channels  below,  till  it 
came  up  a  flashing  diamond  in  a  mountain-spring,  was 
tossed  on  the  curve  of  a  tumbling  torrent,  and  at  last  went 
to  the  ocean  by  some  old  historic  river,  —  Euphrates  or  Nile. 
Then  the  sun  darted  forth  a  ray  of  heat  to  meet  it,  —  a  mes- 
senger sent  ninety-six  millions  of  miles,  charged  to  gather 
iip  this  one  drop,  and  lift  it  again  into  air,  and,  with  its 
evaporated  tissue,  to  paint  the  edge  of  a  cloud  on  some 
golden  sunset.  Everything  is  transformed  in  Nature ; 
nothing  lost.  Imperial  C^sar,  turned  to  clay,  may  stop  a 
hole  to  keep  away  the  wind ;  but  he  is  not  lost.  Decay's 
effacing  fingers  sweep  away  the  lines  of  lingering  beauty  in 
flower  and  tree  and  man,  but  the  mighty  chemical  affinities 
continually  gather  up  all  the  particles,  and  combine  them 
anew,  and  suffer  nothing  to  be  lost.  I  recollect  in  a  class- 
recitation  at  Cambridge,  in  chemistry,  the  question  being  put 
about  some  new  combination,  when  everything  else  had  been 
accounted  for,  —  "But  what  became  of  the  carbon?"  said 
the  professor.  The  student  hesitated,  and  at  last  said,  "  It 
was  iostf  sir."  What  laughter  greeted  th'e  absurd  reply ! 
for  chemistry  has  announced  to  the  world,  as  its  fundamental 
law,  that  in  Nature  nothing  is  lost.  All  things  are  changed. 
Tennyson  says  in  one  of  his  poems,  unpublished  in  this 
country,  — 

"  When  will  the  stream  be  aweary  of  flowing 

Under  my  eye  ? 
When  will  the  wind  be  aweary  of  blowing 

Over  the  sky? 
When  will  the  clouds  be  aweary  of  fleeting, 
When  will  the  heart  be  aweary  of  beating, 

And  Nature  die  ? 
Never,  0,  never !     Nothing  will  die  I 

The  stream  flows ; 

The  wind  blows ; 

The  cloud  fleets ; 

The  heart  beats ; 

Nothing  will  die  !  " 


124  THE   FRAGMENTS. 

And  this  great  law  of  economy  in  Nature  has  its  corre- 
sponding law  in  the  moral  and  spiritual  world.  When 
Christ  said  to  his  disciples,  "  Gather  up  the  fragments  that 
remain,  that  nothing  be  lost,"  it  was  not  because  they  needed 
the  fragments  of  bread  and  fish,  but  it  was  to  teach  them 
the  law  of  economy,  —  that  it  was  wrong  to  waste  anything. 
He  had  just  shown  them  that  they  never  could  need  when  he 
was  near  them ;  that  he  had  at  his  beck  the  inexhaustible 
supplies  of  miracle.  But  that  might  make  them  careless 
and  wasteful.  God  has  limited  us  by  need,  that  we  may 
limit  ourselves  afterwards  by  economy.  This  economy  is 
sacred  and  religious,  not  selfish.  It  recognizes  all  things  as 
given  by  God  ;  given  for  use,  not  waste  ;  to  be  treated  rev- 
erently, not  recklessly.  When  we  see  any  one  throw  away 
a  good  piece  of  bread,  we  rightly  feel  pained.  It  is  not 
because  of  the  value  of  the  bread,  but  because  of  the  disre- 
spect shown  to  what  religious  people,  in  their  old-fashioned 
language,  called  "  God's  good  creature."  If  a  friend  had 
made  for  you,  with  thought,  love,  and  skill,  some  little  gift, 
a  pen-wiper  or  a  book-mark,  you  would  not  throw  it  away 
when  you  did  not  want  it  longer,  because  your  friend's  love, 
time,  and  care  went  into  it.  But  God  has  put  into  the  piece 
of  bread  how  much  creative  wisdom  and  providing  love  ! 
the  wonderful  mystery  of  the  seed  and  its  germination ;  the 
horticulture  of  prepared  soils,  moisture,  air,  sun,  and  the 
changing  seasons ;  and  then  the  chemistry  of  fermentation, 
and  the  alchemy  of  fire.  A  piece  of  bread  becomes  sacred 
when  we  think  of  such  things ;  and  to  partake  of  it  is  to 
partake  of  the  sacrament.  You  would  not  throw  a  piece  of 
consecrated  bread  from  the  communion-table  upon  the  floor, 
to  be  trampled  on,  for  it  has  been  sanctified  by  love  and 
prayer.  But  all  Nature  is  thus  consecrated,  and  becomes 
sacred,  when  we  see  the  finger  of  God  in  it. 

Therefore  our  New  England  ancestors,  who  themselves 
learned  economy  as  a  necessity  on  these  sterile  shores,  taught 


THE  FRAGMENTS.  125 

it  to  their  children  as  a  religion.  New  England  children, 
down  to  my  time,  were  taught  economy  as  a  sacred  moral 
duty.  I  am  afraid  that  that  time  has  passed  away.  A 
habit  of  wastefulness,  injurious  to  the  character,  has  since 
come  in  with  prosperity. 

But  as  everything  good  runs  into  an  extreme,  and  so  be- 
comes a  vice,  our  New  England  economy  sometimes  ran  into 
an  extreme,  and  became  parsimony.  Sometimes  we  can 
save  a  thing  only  by  using  it,  or  by  giving  it  away.  We 
lose  it  by  trying  to  keep  it.  You  remember  the  epitaph  on 
a  tombstone  :  "  What  I  gave,  I  have  ;  what  I  spent,  I  had  ; 
what  I  kept,  I  lost."  The  great  millionnaire,  who  dies  with- 
out having  done  any  great  good  with  his  wealth,  evidently 
loses  it  all  in  a  day.  He  might  have  kept  part  of  it  by  using 
it  in  some  good  cause,  for  some  good  end.  He  might  have 
had  some  royal  charity,  some  bounty  that  was  to  bless  and 
save  thousands  growing  up  under  his  own  living  eyes  ;  have 
caused  the  widows'  hearts  to  sing  for  joy,  lightened  the  sor- 
rows of  the  orphans,  and  been  followed  to  the  grave  by  the 
grateful  feet  of  thousands  whom  he  had  rescued.  There  are 
lower  and  higher  economies  :  if  he  kept  his  money,  he  only 
practised  the  lowest. 

So  sometimes  we  lose  time  by  trying  to  save  it  in  a  par- 
simonious way ;  trying  to  utilize  every  moment  to  some  out- 
ward, visible  end.  Young  men  sometimes  make  this  mis- 
take when  they  begin  to  preach.  They  see  that  there  is  a 
great  deal  to  do,  and  so  allow  themselves  no  relaxation,  but 
sit  all  day  long  trying  to  study  or  to  write.  But  this  stupe- 
fies them.  They  would  do  better  to  expand  and  vitalize 
their  souls  by  the  good  intercourse  of  friendship,  or  the  glad 
inspiration  of  Nature.  Then  they  would  come  back  to  their 
study,  and  have  something  to  say.  As  it  is,  they  only  sit 
looking  at  the  blank  paper  with  a  blank  mind.  So  Milton 
says,  — 


126  THE   FRAGMENTS. 

"  To  measure  life,  learn  thou  betimes,  and  know 
Towards  solid  good  what  leads  the  nearest  way ; 
For  other  things  mild  Heaven  a  time  ordains, 
And  disapproves  tliat  care,  though  wise  in  show, 
That  with  superfluous  labor  loads  the  day." 

Dissipation  is  waste  ;  but  recreation  is  economy.  So  that 
whatever  time  is  spent  in  gaining  new  life  and  moral  power 
is  well  spent ;  and  that  is  just  the  rule  by  which  to  distin- 
guish between  the  kind  and  amount  of  amusement  which  is 
right.  That  which  recreates  (re-creates)  the  mind  is  good ; 
that  which  dissipates,  wastes  it,  is  bad. 

But  there  is  a  higher  economy  still  in  this  great  scale. 
There  is  an  economy  of  life,  which  consists  in  giving  it 
away ;  an  economy  of  the  heart  and  soul,  which  consists  in 
their  devotion  to  a  great  good.  Jesus  says,  "  He  who  loves 
his  life  shall  lose  it ;  but  he  who  loses  his  life  for  my  name's 
sake  and  the  gospel's,  the  same  shall  find  it."  He  does  not 
teach  us  any  mercantile  economy  or  any  calculating  religion. 
Christ's  religion  is  not  a  spiritual  insurance-office,  by  which 
we  can  secure  heaven  and  escape  hell  hereafter  by  a  certain 
weekly  regular  deposit  of  prayers  and  religious  acts  here. 
Many  people  think  so,  and  are  taught  so.  They  are  taught 
that  Christ  came  merely  to  show  them  how  to  save  their 
own  souls  from  hell,  and  that  this  is  the  true  thing  to  aim 
at.  Christianity  teaches  no  such  selfishness  as  that.  It 
teaches  us  that  God  will  take  care  of  our  soul  and  our  safety, 
if  we  go  out  and  do  his  work  and  his  will.  It  says,  "  If  we 
will  love  others,  God  will  love  and  bless  us." 

Yes  :  Jesus  came  to  gather  up  the  fragments  which  remain 
of  human  virtue,  love,  and  goodness,  that  nothing  should  be 
lost.  There  are  always  some  fragments  which  remain  in 
every  heart.  God's  great  law  of  economy  applies  to  these. 
If  he  does  not  allow  a  comet  to  wander  hopelessly  away 
into  emptiness,  but  sends  the  great  archangel  gravitation  to 
bring  it  back,  he  will  not  let  a  soul,  made  in  his  own  image, 


THE   FRAGMENTS.  127 

go  off  on  any  fatal  erratic  curve  into  outer  darkness.  The 
great  archangel  Love  shall  pursue  the  lost  souls,  and  find 
them.  That  is  what  Christianity  teaches,  if  it  teaches  any- 
thing. The  Son  of  man  comes  to  seek  and  save  the  lost. 
If  he  had  pity  on  the  fragments  of  bread,  the  overflowings 
of  his  bountiful  good-will,  will  he  not  pity  the  fragments  of 
broken  minds  and  broken  hearts?  He  does.  He  does  not 
choose  to  drink  the  cup  of  joy  alone  in  the  heavenly  kingdom 
of  God.  He  cannot  be  happy  there,  unless  you  and  I  are 
there  with  him.  He  cannot  be  happy  there,  unless  we  bring 
with  us  our  lost  brethren  and  sisters  who  are  perishing 
around  us  for  lack  of  a  little  love.  Has  God  sent  Christ  to 
seek  and  save  the  lost?  and  shall  he  not  find  them  and  save 
them?  Why,  not  a  particle  of  these  multitudinous  snow- 
flakes  whicth  fell  last  night  but  has  been  made  by  divine  fin- 
gers into  lovely  hexagons,  and  not  a  particle  but  comes  to 
do  a  special  work.  Shall  not  Christ  do  his?  Yea,  verily. 
"As  the  rain  cometh  down,  and  the  snow  from  heaven,  and 
returneth  not  thither,  but  watereth  the  earth,  making  it 
bring  forth  seed  to  the  sower,  and  bread  to  the  eater ;  so 
shall  my  word  be  that  goeth  out  of  my  mouth." 

Man  is  made  for  progress  ;  but  there  are  two  kinds  of 
progress.  One  kind  consists  in  going  forward  from  one 
thing  to  another ;  one  knowledge  to  another  knowledge ; 
dropping  the  past  behind  us,  in  order  to  attain  the  future. 
It  is  leaving  the  good  to  gain  the  better ;  giving  up  one  truth 
for  the  sake  of  another.  It  is  being  "  eternal  seekers,  with 
no  past  behind  us."  But  another  and  higher  kind  is  that 
which  gathers  up  the  past  into  the  present,  absorbs  history 
into  life,  makes  all  old  experiences  "  consolidate  in  mind  and 
frame."  That  is  the  only  progress  which  endures  :  the  other 
always  falls  a  victim  to  reaction.  Reaction  in  life  and  his- 
tory is  only  going  back  to  pick  up  something  we  have  forgot- 
ten. So  the  reaction  from  democracy  in  Europe  to  monarchy 
is  going  back  to  get  something  good  in  monarchy  w^hich 


128  THE   FRAGMENTS. 

democracy  forgot  to  take.  Reaction  from  Protestantism  to 
Catholicism  is  going  back  to  get  something  good  belonging 
to  the  Roman  Church  which  Protestantism  left  behind.  Re- 
action from  Liberal  Christianity  to  Orthodoxy  is  the  same 
thing.  No  progress  is  sure  that  leaves  anything  behind  it 
forgotten  or  neglected ;  and  so  the  human  race  will  make  no 
progress  while  it  leaves  any  part  neglected  behind.  We  are 
members  of  a  great  body,  and  each  needs  all  the  rest.  The 
English  thought  they  could  do  without  the  Irish,  and  leave 
them  behind,  uncultivated,  mere  serfs  ;  but  the  Irish  have 
hung  as  a  clog  on  the  progress  of  England,  and  compelled 
her  at  last  to  recognize  their  claim.  We  thought  we  could 
leave  the  negroes  behind,  and  neglect  them,  while  we,  mem- 
bers of  the  great  American  Republic,  were  going  on,  in  long 
strides,  to  the  acme  of  prosperity  and  greatness.  But  wiser 
fate  said,  "  No."  We  have  been  obliged  to  turn  round,  and 
go  back,  and  find  the  negro,  to  take  him  with  us.  And  so 
there  can  be  no  real  progress  or  peace  in  society  while  any 
class  remains  neglected ;  while  there  are  drunkards  and 
prostitutes,  beggars  and  criminals,  who  have  no  care  and  no 
love  extended  to  them.  The  taint  of  their  disease  comes  up 
into  our  palaces  and  into  our  hearts.  Let  us,  then,  gather 
up  the  fragments,  and  seek  and  save  the  lost.  The  worst 
man  and  the  worst  woman  have  something  good  in  them. 
Let  us  seek  it,  find  it,  and  save  it.  The  human  race  will 
not  be  saved  till  every  human  being  is  saved.  The  Ortho- 
dox doctrine  was,  that  the  redeemed  would  be  made  happier 
by  looking  down  into  hell,  and  seeing  the  torments  of  the 
damned,  —  their  own  fathers  and  children.  The  exact  op- 
posite is  the  truth.  The  redeemed  are  only  redeemed  them- 
selves by  saving  the  lost ;  and  they  cannot  get  to  heaven  till 
they  bring  the  lost  with  them. 

In  the  year  1717,  from  the  1st  to  the  Gth  of  March,  about 
this  very  time,  there  was  the  greatest  snow-storm  that  ever 
happened  in  New  England  in  tlie  memory  of  man.     The 


THE   FRAGMENTS.  129 

snow  drifted  twenty  feet  high  in  some  places.  In  the  town 
of  Eastham,  on  the  Cape,  old  Mr.  Treat,  who  had  been 
minister  there  for  forty-five  years,  died.  No  paths  could  be 
cut  to  carry  him  to  the  grave.  He  lay  in  the  house  several 
days.  At  last,  the  Indians  of  Eastham,  whom  he  had  helped 
and  taught,  protected  and  comforted,  dug  an  archway  through 
the  drifts,  and  carried  the  coiiin  of  their  friend  on  their  own 
shoulders  to  the  graveyard.  That  is  the  way  in  which  we 
are  to  get  to  heaven  :  the  hands  of  those  we  have  helped 
must  dig  the  way  for  us,  and  we  must  be  carried  on  their 
shoulders  through  the  drifts  of  our  frozen  life. 

Many  sins  we  commit,  which  freeze  around  the  heart,  and 
case  it  in  an  icy  coat  of  selfishness.  Many  stormy  and  tem- 
pestuous gusts  of  passion  rage  over  the  human  soul.  But  if 
the  angel  of  charity  stays  with  us  ;  if  we  do  not  despise  the 
poor,  do  not  neglect  the  stranger,  do  not  forsake  the  vicious 
and  the  prisoner,  the  needy  and  the  ignorant ;  if  we  hold  out 
a  hand  of  help  to  the  helpless,  —  these  little  acts  of  love  will 
react  on  our  own  soul,  and  melt  the  ice,  and  warm  our  hearts 
with  a  strange  spring-time  of  hope  and  joy.  Those  whose 
broken  hearts  you  have  healed  ;  whose  hurt  consciences  you 
have  comforted ;  whose  lost  steps  you  have  guided ;  whose 
despair  you  have  removed ;  for  whom  you  have  given 
thought,  time,  strength,  and  life,  —  they  are  to  carry  you  on 
their  shoulders  to  heaven. 

This  explains  the  singular  peace  and  comfort  which  our 
brave  men  have  in  the  midst  of  their  sufferings  in  the  battle 
and  camp,  in  the  hospitals,  and  on  the  field.  They  have 
given  themselves  for  the  country  and  for  us,  and  God  blesses 
them.  They  forget  themselves,  and  he  remembers  them. 
One  wrote  home  to  his  wife  the  other  day,  that  he  had  lost 
both  legs  ;  and  he  drew  on  his  letter  the  picture  of  a  man  on 
crutches,  and  said,  "  That's  the  way  I'm  coming  home  to 
you,  Mary  :  but  don't  mind,  Mary  ;  we  will  be  happy  yet." 
Such  men  give,  and  it  is  given  to  them  again  :  full  measure, 
9 


130  THE   FRAGMENTS. 

pressed  clown,  running  over,  does  God  give  into  their  bosoms, 
of  his  comfort  and  of  his  peace. 

In  the  mint  in  Philadelphia,  there  is  a  room  where  the 
gold  is  rolled  and  clipped  and  stamped,  and  cut  into  coin. 
The  floor  is  of  iron  cut  into  holes,  and  the  sweepings  of  the 
room  fall  through,  and  once  a  month  are  put  into  the  fur- 
nace ;  and  in  this  way  are  saved  some  forty  thousand  dollars* 
worth  of  gold  every  year  that  before  was  lost.  But  what 
are  fragments  of  gold  or  diamond  to  fragments  of  love,  hope, 
and  insight? 

So  gather  up  the  fragments  which  remain  of  God's  won- 
derful gifts  in  Nature  and  in  Providence  ;  of  his  mysterious 
and  beautiful  gifts  in  the  minds,  consciences,  and  hearts  of 
men. 

You  have  seen  the  priests,  after  the  sacrament,  take  care 
that  none  of  the  consecrated  bread  should  be  wasted,  and 
request  the  communicants  to  distribute  among  them  what 
remains,  and  eat  it  all  up,  to  the  last  crumb.  Do  this,  if  it 
seems  to  you  proper  and  devout.  Tithe  the  mint  and  the 
anise,  if  you  will ;  but  forget  not  the  weightier  matters  of 
the  law.  Do  not  forget,  that  far  more  sacred  than  any  con- 
secrated bread  is  that  true  bread  which  came  down  from 
heaven  ;  that  sacred,  divine  gift  of  the  soul  which  God  has 
placed  in  man  ;  that  power  of  aspiration,  capacity  of  progress, 
sense  of  right,  knowledge  of  infinite  truth,  fitness  for  bound- 
less love  and  thought  and  action.  Do  not  let  even  the  crumbs 
of  this  fall  to  the  ground,  if  you  can  save  them  ;  for,  of  all 
holy  things  on  earth,  nothing  is  so  holy  in  the  sight  of  God 
as  the  soul  of  man. 


XIII. 

ALL   SOULS  ARE   GOD'S. 
Ezek.  xviii.  4:  "All  Souls  are  Mine." 

DURING  the  past  week  *  two  Christian  festivals  have 
been  celebrated  by  the  Church  of  Rome,  which  I 
should  be  glad  to  see  celebrated  by  all  Christian  denomi- 
nations. They  were  instituted  in  days  when  the  Church 
was  truly  Catholic,  and  had  not  become  exclusive,  —  the 
days  of  church  unity  and  universality ;  and  these  days  are 
festivals  of  a  universal  Church  and  of  a  true  unity.  In  the 
year  eight  hundred  and  thirty-five,  the  first  day  of  November 
was  appointed  by  Gregory  IV.  as  a  festival  for  all  the  saints  ; 
and  it  has  ever  since  been  known  as  All-Saints'  Day.  It  is 
a  day  ou  which  we  may  remember  the  saints  and  martyrs 
of  every  time,  every  land,  and  every  creed  ;  a  day  on  which 
the  war  of  theology  should  cease,  the  bitterness  of  contro- 
versy subside ;  which  should  be  a  "  truce  of  God "  amid 
warring  sects.  On  this  day,  recognizing  the  fact  that  emi- 
nent goodness  is  monopolized  by  no  party,  that  devoted  piety 
and  disinterested  humanity  are  to  be  found  in  every  denomi- 
nation, all  sections  of  the  Church  might  unite  in  one  great 
procession,  to  visit,  with  grateful  love  and  memory,  the  holy 
tombs  of  all  the  good.  Catholic  and  Protestant,  Methodist 
and  Quaker,  Orthodox  and  Heterodox,  might  kneel  together 

*  This  sermon  was  preached  on  the  Sunday  following  the  festivals 
of  All  Saints  and  All.  Souls,  November  1  and  November  2. 

(131) 


132  ALL   SOULS   ARE   GOD'S. 

in  grateful  prayer  around  the  graves  of  St.  Francis  and  St. 
Charles,  of  Oberlin  and  Fenelon,  of  George  Fox  and  John 
Wesley,  of  Milton  and  Priestley.  On  this  day,  the  Church 
would  be  truly  universal.  As  the  first  day  of  November  is 
the  Feast  of  All  Saints,  so  the  second  day  of  November  is 
the  Feast  of  All  Souls  ;  and  is,  in  its  idea  and  spirit,  even 
more  universal,  more  catholic,  than  the  other.  If  the  first 
is  the  day  of  the  universal  church  brotherhood,  the  other  is 
a  day  for  universal  human  brotherhood.  It  was  originally 
established  in  the  eleventh  century,  in  commemoration  of  the 
souls  of  those  who  had  departed  during  the  year.  It  is  not 
iuteuded  for  the  great  and  distinguished  alone,  not  for  the 
eminently  good  alone  ;  but  for  all,  —  all  souls.  It  is  not  for 
the  holy  and  happy  alone  ;  but  for  the  unwise,  the  unhappy, 
the  unholy  also,  —  those  whose  present  lives  seem  to  be 
failures.  It  is  a  feast  of  Christian  hope,  of  hope  for  all, 
—  hope  founded  in  the  indestructible  elements  of  the  soul 
itself,  as  made  by  God,  and  made  for  himself. 

This  last  is  the  subject  for  our  meditations  to-day.  Let 
us  see  how  it  is  that  all  souls  belong  to  God  ;  what  it  is  that 
is  meant  when  he  says,  "  All  souls  are  mine."  Let  us  see 
how  the  despised,  forgotten,  abandoned  children  of  earth  still 
belong  to  God,  and  still  are  dear  to  him. 

When  we  look  at  the  world  from  any  other  point  of  view 
than  the  Christian,  we  are  led  to  despise  or  to  undervalue  the 
mass  of  men.  The  man  of  culture  looks  down  on  ihem  as 
incapable  of  mental  improvement ;  the  man  of  righteousness 
sees  them  hopelessly  immersed  in  vice  and  crime  ;  the  re- 
former turns  away  discouraged,  seeing  how  they  cling  to  old 
abuses.  Every  thing  discourages  us  but  Christianity.  That 
enables  us  to  take  off  all  these  coverings,  and  find  beneath 
tiie  indestructible  elements  and  capacities  of  the  soul  itself. 
We  see  standing  before  us  a  muflflcd  figure :  it  has  been  dug 
out  of  the  ground,  and  is  covered  with  a  mass  of  earth. 
The   man  of  taste  looks  at,  and   finds  nothing  attractive : 


ALL   SOULS   ARE   GOD's.  133 

he  sees  only  the  ^Yretched  covering.  The  moralist  looks  at  it, 
and  finds  it  hopelessly  stained  with  the  earth  and  the  soil  in 
which  it  has  so  long  lain.  The  reformer  is  discouraged,  find- 
ing that  it  is  in  fragments,  —  whole  limbs  wanting  ;  and  con- 
siders its  restoration  hopeless.  But  another  comes,  inspired 
by  a  profounder  hope  :  and  he  sees  beneath  the  stains  the 
divine  lineaments  ;  in  the  broken  fragments  the  wonderful 
proportions.  Carefujly  he  removes  the  coverings  ;  tenderly 
he  cleanses  it  from  its  stains  ;  patiently  he  readjusts  the 
broken  parts,  and  supplies  those  which  are  wanting :  and 
so  at  last  it  stands,  in  a  royal  museum  or  pontifical  palace, 
an  Apollo  or  a  Venus,  the  very  type  of  manly  grace  or  fem- 
inine beauty,  —  a  statue  which  enchants  the  world.  The 
statue,  broken  and  defaced,  is  our  common  humanity  ;  so 
broken,  so  defaced,  that  only  the  far-reaching  hope,  founded 
on  God's  interest  in  the  human  soul,  can  enable  us  to  do 
anything  adequately  for  its  restoration. 

1.  All  souls  belong  to  God  and  to  goodness  by  creation. 
God  has  evidently  created  every  soul  for  goodness.  He  has 
carefully  endowed  it  with  indestructible  faculties  looking  that 
way.  Every  soul  has  an  indestructible  idea  of  right  and 
wrong,  producing  the  feeling  of  obligation  on  the  one  hand, 
of  penitence  or  remorse  on  the  other ;  every  soul  has  the 
tendency  to  worship,  to  look  up  to  some  spiritual  power 
higher  than  itself,  better  than  itself;  every  soul  is  endowed 
with  the  gift  of  freedom,  made  capable  of  choosing  between 
life  and  death,  good  and  evil ;  every  soul  is  endowed  with 
reason,  with  a  capacity  of  knowledge ;  and  especially  is 
every  soul  endowed  with  the  faculty  of  improvement,  of 
progress. 

Compared  with  the  capacities  and  powers  which  are  com- 
mon to  all,  how  small  are  the  differences  of  genius  or  talent 
between  man  and  man  !  Now,  suppose  that  we  should  see 
in  the  midst  of  our  city  a  building  just  erected  with  care  and 
cost.     Its  foundations  are  deeply  laid  ;  its  walls  are  of  solid 


134  ALL   SOULS   ARE   GOD'S. 

stone  ;  its  various  apartments  are  arranged  with  skill  for 
domestic  and  social  objects  :  but  is  is  unoccupied  and  unused. 
We  do  not  believe  that  its  owner  intends  it  to  remain  so : 
we  believe  that  the  day  will  come  in  which  these  rooms 
shall  become  a  home ;  in  which  these  vacant  chambers  shall 
resound  with  the  glad  shouts  of  children,  and  the  happy 
laughter  of  youth ;  where  one  room  shall  be  devoted  to 
earnest  study,  another  to  serious  conversation,  another  to 
safe  repose,  and  the  whole  be  sanctified  by  prayer.  Such  a 
building  has  God  erected  in  every  human  soul.  One  cham- 
ber of  the  mind  is  fitted  for  thought,  another  for  affection, 
another  for  earnest  work,  another  for  imagination,  and  the 
whole  to  be  the  temple  of  God.  It  stands  now  vacant;  its 
rooms  unswept,  unfurnished,  wakened  by  no  happy  echoes  : 
but  shall  it  be  so  always?  Will  God  allow  this  soul,  which 
belongs  to  him,  so  carefully  provided  with  infinite  faculties, 
to  go  wholly  to  waste?  The  man  who  buried  his  lord's 
talent  was  rebuked  :  will  God  bury  his  own  talent,  having 
made  the  soul  for  himself?  Will  he  let  it  remain  hidden  in 
the  earth,  by  not  putting  it  to  use,  and  educating  it  in  the 
course  of  his  providence? 

2.  No  :  God,  having  made  the  soul  for  goodness,  is  also 
educating  it  for  goodness.  The  soul,  which  belongs  to 
God  by  creation,  will  also  belong  to  him  by  education  and 
culture. 

We  send  our  children  to  school,  —  to  the  primary  school, 
to  learn  to  read  and  write  ;  to  the  grammar-school,  perhaps 
to  an  academy,  perhaps  to  college  ;  we  put  them  to  learn  a 
tiade  or  a  profession,  —  and  then  we  say  we  have  given 
them  an  education.  Meantime  we  do  not  see  how  God  is 
educating  them,  and  educating  us  too,  in  this  his  great 
school,  —  the  world.  The  earth  is  God's  school,  where  men 
arc  sent  for  seventy  years,  more  or  less,  to  be  educated  for 
the  world  beyond.  All  souls  are  sent  to  this  school ;  all 
enjoy  its   opportunities.     The  poor,  who  cannot  go  to  our 


105 

schools  ;  the  wretched  and  the  forlorn,  who,  we  think,  arc 
without  means  of  culture,  —  are  perhaps  better  taught  than  we 
are  in  God's  great  university.  The  principal  teachers  in  this 
school  are  three,  —  nature,  events,  and  labor.  Nature  re- 
ceives the  new-born  child,  shows  hina  her  picture-book,  and 
teaches  him  his  alphabet  with  simple  sights  and  sounds. 
She  has  a  wonderful  apparatus,  and  teaches  everything,  and 
illustrates  everything  she  teaches  by  experiments.  She  lets 
him  handle  wood,  water,  stones  ;  shows  him  animals  and 
birds,  insects  and  fishes  ;  and  so  familiarizes  his  mind  with 
a  fixed  order,  with  permanent  law,  with  cause  and  effect, 
substance  and  form,  space  and  time.  Happy  are  the  children 
who  can  go  the  most  to  Mother  Nature,  and  learn  tl  e  most 
in  her  dame  school.  The  little  prince  was  wise  who  threw 
aside  his  fine  playthings,  and  wished  to  go  out  and  play  in 
the  beautiful  mud. 

The  next  teacher  in  God's  school  is  labor.  That  which 
men  call  the  primal  curse,  is,  in  fact,  one  of  our  greatest 
blessings.  Those  who  are  called  the  fortunate  classes,  be- 
cause they  are  exempt  from  the  necessity  of  toil,  are,  for 
that  very  reason,  the  most  unfortunate.  Work  gives  health 
of  body  and  health  of  mind,  and  is  the  great  means  of  de- 
veloping character.  Nature  is  the  teacher  of  the  intellect, 
but  labor  forms  the  character.  Nature  makes  us  acquainted 
with  facts  and  laws  ;  but  labor  teaches  tenacity  of  purpose, 
perseverance  in  action,  decision,  resolution,  and  self-respect. 
The  man  who  has  done  a  day's  work  well,  respects  himself, 
has  contentment  in  his  heart,  and  knows  himself,  however 
humble  his  sphere,  to  be  in  that  sphere  essential.  It  is  bad 
that  men  should  be  overburdened  or  broken  by  toil ;  bad  that 
children,  whom  God  has  sent  to  his  school  of  Nature,  should 
be  sent  too  early  into  the  school  of  work :  but  the  necessity 
of  daily  labor  is  a  gift  to  the  race,  the  value  of  which  we 
can  scarcely  estimate.  If  only  a  few  were  allowed  to  work, 
and  the  mass  of  men  were  condemned  to  idleness,  the  world 


136  ALL    SOULS    ARE   GOD'S. 

would  be  a  Pandemonium,  and  life  a  curse  ;  but  it  is  a  gift 
to  all,  a  means  of  education  for  all  souls. 

Then  comes  the  third  teacher,  —  those  events  of  life  which 
come  to  all, — joy  and  sorrow,  success  and  disappointment, 
happy  love,  disappointed  affection,  bereavement,  poverty, 
sickness  and  recovery,  youth,  manhood,  and  old  age. 
Through  this  series  of  events,  all  are  taken  by  the  great 
teacher  —  life  :  these  diversify  the  most  monotonous  career 
with  a  wonderful  interest.  They  are  sent  to  deepen  the 
nature,  to  educate  the  sensibilities.  Thus  nature  teaches  the 
intellect,  labor  strengthens  the  will,  and  the  experiences  of 
life  teach  the  heart. 

For  all  souls  God  has  provided  this  costly  education. 
What  shall  we  infer  from  it?  If  we  see  a  man  providing 
an  elaborate  education  for  his  child,  hardening  his  body  by 
exercise  and  exposure,  strengthening  his  mind  by  severe 
study,  what  do  we  infer  from  this?  We  naturally  infer  that 
he  intends  him  for  a  grand  career.  If  he  knew  that  his  son 
had  a  mortal  disease  which  would  take  him  away  before 
maturity,  would  he  subject  him  to  this  severe  discipline? 
Then,  when  God  disciplines  us  by  severe  toil  and  sharp 
sorrow,  we  may  believe  that  he  is  thus  forming  us  for  a 
great  career  by  and  by. 

3.  Again :  all  souls  belong  to  God  by  redemption.  The 
work  of  Christ  is  for  all :  he  died  for  all,  the  just  and  the 
unjust,  that  he  might  bring  them  to  God.  He  came  to  rec- 
oncile all  things  unto  God.  Christ  did  not  die  for  the  great 
and  the  distinguished  only,  nor  for  the  good  and  pure  only  ; 
but  for  the  most  humble,  neglected,  and  forlorn.  The  light 
streaming  from  his  cross  reveals  in  every  soul  a  priceless 
treasure,  dear  to  God,  which  he  will  not  willingly  lose.  Tiie 
value  of  a  single  soul  in  the  eyes  of  God  has  been  illustrated 
by  the  coming  of  Jesus  as  in  no  other  way.  The  recognition 
of  this  value  is  a  feature  peculiar  to  Christianity.  To  be 
the  means  of  converting  a  single  soul,  to  put  a  single  soul  in 


ALL   SOULS   ARE   GOD'S.  137 

the  right  way,  has  been  considered  a  sufficient  reward  for 
the  labors  of  the  most  devoted  genius  and  the  ripest  culture  ; 
to  rescue  those  who  have  sunk  the  lowest  in  sin  and  shame 
has  been  the  especial  work  of  the  Christian  philanthropist ; 
to  preach  the  loftiest  truths  of  the  gospel  to  the  most  debased 
and  savage  tribes  in  the  far  Pacific  has  been  the  chosen  work 
of  the  Christian  missionary.  In  this  they  have  caught  the 
spirit  of  the  gospel.  God  said,  "  I  will  send  my  Son."  He 
chose  the  loftiest  being  for  the  lowliest  work,  and  thus  taught 
us  how  he  values  the  redemption  of  that  soul  which  is  the 
heritage  of  all. 

Now,  if  a  man,  apparently  very  humble,  and  far  gone  in 
disease,  should  be  picked  up  in  the  street,  and  sent  to  the 
almshouse  to  die,  and  then,  if  immediately  there  should 
arrive  some  eminent  person  —  say  the  governor  or  president 
—  to  visit  him,  bringing  from  a  distance  the  first  medical 
assistance,  regardless  of  cost,  we  should  say,  "  This  man's 
life  must  be  very  precious  :  something  very  important  must 
depend  upon  it."  But,  now,  this  is  what  God  has  done, 
only  infinitely  more,  for  all  souls.  He  must,  therefore,  see 
in  them  something  of  priceless  value.  He  does  not  wish  to 
lose  one.  We  are  willing  recklessly  to  injure  or  ruin  our 
own  soul  for  the  most  trifling  gratification  ;  but,  in  so  doing, 
we  destroy  that  which  belongs  to  God,  and  which  he  prizes 
most  highly. 

4.  Lastly,  in  the  future  life,  all  souls  will  belong  to  God. 

The  differences  of  life  disappear  at  the  grave,  and  all  be- 
come equal  again  there.  Then  the  outward  clothing  of 
rank,  of  earthly  position,  high  or  low,  is  laid  aside,  and  each 
enters  the  presence  of  God,  alone,  as  an  immortal  soul. 
Then  we  go  to  judgment  and  to  retribution.  But  the  judg- 
ments and  retributions  of  eternity  are  for  the  same  object  as 
the  education  of  time  :  they  are  to  complete  the  work  left 
unfinished  here.  In  God's  house  above  are  many  mansions, 
suited  to  every  one's  condition.      Each  will  find  the  place 


138  ALL   SOULS   ARE   GOD's. 

where  he  belongs  ;  each  will  find  the  discipline  which  he 
needs.  Judas  went  to  his  place,  the  place  which  he  needed, 
where  it  was  best  for  him  to  go  ;  and  the  apostle  Paul  went 
to  his  place,  the  place  best  suited  for  him.  The  result  of  life 
with  one  man  has  fitted  him  for  glory  and  honor ;  another  is 
only  fitted  for  outer  darkness  :  but  each  will  have  Avhat  is 
best  for  him.  We  may  throw  ourselves  away  ;  but  God  will 
not  throw  us  away.  We  belong  to  him  still ;  and  he  "gath- 
ers up  the  fragments  which  remain,  that  nothing  be  lost." 
In  order  to  become  pure,  we  may  need  sharp  suffering ;  and 
then  God  will  not  hesitate  to  inflict  it.  In  the  other  life,  as 
in  this,  he  will  chasten  us,  not  for  his  pleasure,  but  for  our 
profit,  that  we  may  be  partakers  of  his  holiness.  It  is  thus 
that  God's  love  for  the  soul,  and  its  worth,  appear  eminently, 
in  that  he  will  not  let  us  destroy  ourselves.  When  we  pass 
into  the  other  world,  those  who  are  ready,  and  have  on  the 
wedding-garment,  will  go  in  to  the  supper.  They  will  find 
themselves  in  a  more  exalted  state  of  being,  where  the  facul- 
ties of  the  body  are  exalted  and  spiritualized,  and  the  powers 
of  the  soul  are  heightened  ;  where  a  higher  truth,  a  nobler 
beauty,  a  larger  love,  feed  the  immortal  faculties  with  a 
divine  nourishment ;  where  our  imperfect  knowledge  w'\\\ 
be  swallowed  up  in  larger  insight ;  and  communion  with 
great  souls,  in  an  atmosphere  of  love,  shall  quicken  us  for 
endless  progress.  Then  faith,  hope,  and  love  will  abide,  — 
faith  leading  to  sight,  hope  urging  to  progress,  and  love 
enabling  us  to  work  with  Christ  for  the  redemption  of  the 
race. 

"  All  souls  are  mine."  Blessed  declaration  of  the  God- 
inspired  Ezekicl !  All  souls  —  of  the  great  and  the  humble, 
the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  wise  and  the  ignorant,  the  king 
and  (he  slave,  the  pure  child  and  the  abandoned  woman,  the 
soul  of  St.  John  and  the  soul  of  Judas  Iscariot,  —  all  belong 
to  God.  He  will  take  care  of  what  is  his  :  he  will  leave  no 
child  orphaned.     Those  who  are  trodden  down  and  lorsaken 


ALL   SOULS   ARE   GOD's.  139 

in  this  world,  —  he  watches  their  sorrowful  lives,  and  will 
cause  them  to  bring  forth  fruit  at  last.  The  hardened  and 
selfish  worldling,  who  mocks  at  the  higher  law,  and  knows 
no  rule  but  his  own  miserable  rule  of  temporal  expediency, 
—  God  will  teach  him  yet  to  know  and  revere  immortal 
truth  and  heavenly  virtue. 

Thus  does  God  love  all  souls  with  a  universal,  unwearied, 
untired  affection  ;  thus  did  Christ  love  all  souls,  gathering 
around  him,  by  his  deep  interest  in  that  vital  centre  of  life, 
the  publicans,  Pharisees,  and  sinners,  the  pious  and  the  pro- 
fane. And  thus,  if  we  are  Christians,  we  shall  love  all 
souls  ;  calling  no  man  common  or  unclean  ;  believing  in  the 
brotherhood  and  sisterhood  of  the  race ;  finding  something 
good  in  every  one,  —  a  vital  seed  of  nobleness  in  the  most 
deadened  bosom  ;  and,  in  thus  loving  other  souls,  our  own 
souls  will  be  blessed.  While  we  forget  ourselves,  God  will 
remember  us ;  while  we  seek  to  save  others,  we,  too,  shall 
be  safe. 

Let  us  rejoice,  friends,  in  these  great  hopes.  Let  us  bless 
God  for  his  creating,  educating,  and  saving  love.  Let  us 
rejoice  that  the  lost  souls  —  lost  to  earth,  lost  to  virtue,  lost 
to  human  uses  here  —  are  not  lost  to  God  ;  that  he  still  holds 
them  in  his  hand.  Let  us  rejoice  that  those  who  will  not  be 
led  to  him  by  blessings  and  joy  shall  be  led  to  him  by  terror, 
pain,  and  awful  suffering.  Let  us  rejoice  that  the  glory  of 
heaven  and  the  lurid  fires  of  hell  shall  both  serve  God,  — 
both  work  together  for  God.  Let  us  rejoice  in  the  great 
communion  of  souls  ;  saints  and  sinners,  —  one  great  family, 
to  be  led  by  Christ  to  his  Father.  And  let  the  humble  ones 
of  earth,  forgotten  by  men,  know  that  they  are  remembered 
by  God,  —  the  nameless  martyrs,  the  uncelebrated  lives,  all 
recorded  in  the  Great  Book  above. 


■  The  thousands,  that,  uncheered  by  praise, 
Have  made  one  offering  of  their  days ; 


140 


For  Truth,  for  Heaven,  for  Freedom's  sake, 
Resigned  the  bitter  cup  to  take ; 
And  silently,  in  fearless  faith, 
Bowing  their  noble  souls  to  death,  — 

'  Where  sleep  they?     Woods  and  sounding  waves 
Are  silent  of  those  hidden  graves. 
Yet  what  if  no  light  footstep  there 
In  pilgrim  love  and  awe  repair? 
They  sleep  in  secret ;  but  the  sod, 
Unknown  to  men,  is  marked  of  God." 


XIV. 

''THE  ACCEPTED   TIME." 
2  Cor.  vi.  2  :  '*Now  is  the  accepted  time;  now  is  the  day  of 

SALVATION." 

IT  is  a  distinction  of  man  to  live  in  the  past  and  the 
future  no  less  than  in  the  present.  The  discourse  of 
reason  is  to  look  before  and  after.  Animals,  indeed,  have 
memory  and  hope.  When  a  horse  whinnies  at  noon,  it 
shows  both  memory  of  the  past,  and  hope  as  regards  the 
future.  He  remembers  that  he  has  been  fed  before  at  that 
time  ;  and  he  is  expecting  to  be  fed  again.  But  man  can 
live  in  the  past  and  the  future.  He  can  project  his  soul 
backward  or  forward,  and  dwell  in  memory  or  hope,  till  the 
present  hour  becomes  nothing  to  him.  To  illustrate  this  at 
length  would  be  interesting,  but  is  not  necessary,  and  would 
take  a  whole  sermon.  Pass,  therefore,  to  a  second  obser- 
vation. 

Though  it  is  a  distinction  of  man  to  be  able  to  live  in  the 
past  and  future,  this  is  not  his  highest  or  best  condition.  To 
let  the  past  and  future  pour  their  consenting  streams  into  his 
present  life,  is  better  than  to  carry  his  life  into  the  past  or 
the  future.     This  proposition  I  proceed  to  explain. 

The  lowest  condition  of  man  is  that  in  which  he  is  wholly 
immersed  in  the  present.  This  implies  the  absence  of  all 
culture.  The  man's  soul  is  enslaved  by  immediate  circum- 
stances, imprisoned  in  this  square  foot  of  space,  in  these 
sixty   seconds  of  time.      The  moment  that  one  begins  to 

(141) 


142  "  THE   ACCEPTED   TIME.'* 

reflect  or  to  imagine,  he  goes  backward  and  forward,  and  so 
escapes  from  the  weight  of  the  present.  The  moment  cul- 
ture begins,  we  cease  to  be  the  slaves  of  this  Now.  Tiie 
child  studying  geography,  history,  grammar,  arithmetic,  al- 
ready escapes  somewhat  from  the  limitation  of  the  present 
moment.  He  is  away  into  Europe,  or  into  the  time  of 
Alexander,  or  into  the  still  more  remote  abstractions  of 
pure  reason. 

The  second  condition  of  man  is  that  in  which  he  lives  in 
tlie  past  or  future,  or  alternately  in  past,  present,  and  future. 
It  is  a  higher  state  than  the  first,  but  not  the  highest.  To 
escape  from  the  present  is  better  than  to  be  its  slave,  but  not 
so  good  as  to  be  its  master.  Some  people  escape  from  the 
present  by  revery.  They  go  into  Dreamland  or  Fairyland, 
and  have  a  good  time  there  ;  build  castles  in  the  air,  —  cas- 
tles in  Spain.  This  gives  to  them  a  certain  feebleness  of 
character,  incapacitates  them  for  work,  weakens  their  moral 
power.  Some  people  lead  a  double  life,  putting  only  half 
their  thought  into  their  action  ;  having  another  world  of 
favorite  imagination  where  the  other  half  goes.  So,  many 
persons  walk  about  the  world  as  in  a  dream.  They  take  no 
interest  in  the  present.  It  seems  to  them,  as  to  Hamlet, 
stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable.  But  duty  is  in  the  present ; 
love  is  in  the  present;  all  real  life  is  in  the  present;  and 
both  heart,  mind,  and  hand  must  be  weakened  by  not  taking 
hold  of  the  present  with  energy.  Anything  which  makes  us 
indifferent  to  the  dawning  day,  which  makes  us  glad  when 
time  passes,  which  makes  us  wish  it  were  good  that  some 
other  time  might  be  here,  indicates  a  morbid  state.  To  live 
in  dreams  of  the  past,  or  visions  of  the  future,  is  sickly.  You 
may  call  it  religion,  if  you  will :  it  is  none  the  less  sickly. 
To  retire  from  life  into  a  cloister,  in  order  to  meditate  upon 
an  eternity  hereafter,  is  morbid.  To  lose  our  interest  in  the 
present  world,  thinking  about  another,  is  morbid.  Anything 
which  disqualifies  us  from  our  duty  is  morbid.     Symptoms 


143 

of  this  disease  are  when  we  lose  our  interest  in  life  and  men, 
get  into  a  habit  of  staying  at  home,  living  in  one  room, 
avoiding  society,  or  even  in  spending  ail  our  time  in  reading, 
which  is  one  way  of  getting  out  of  the  present  into  the  past. 
A  habit  of  reading  may  indicate  strength  or  weakness.  It 
indicates  strength  when  we  read  for  a  purpose  ;  when  read- 
ing is  therefore  a  study  ;  when  we  plunge  into  the  past,  in 
order  to  bring  something  to  the  present,  as  the  diver  learns 
to  hold  his  breath,  and  go  down  fifty  feet  deep,  in  order  to 
bring  up  pearls.  Bat  if  we  read  merely  to  escape  from  our 
present  life,  duty,  and  work,  into  another,  then  it  is  no  more 
creditable  to  read  than  it  is  to  recreate  ourselves  in  any  other 
way.  Of  course,  we  have  a  right  to  read  as  a  recreation, 
just  as  we  may  take  a  walk,  or  amuse  ourselves  in  any  other 
way. 

Some  people  rush  from  the  present  into  the  future  on  the 
wings  of  hope.  Some  fly  back  from  the  present  into  the 
past  with  the  trembling  steps  of  fear.  These  are  visionaries  ; 
those  are  anxious  and  timid  souls.  Some  step  aside  into 
Dreamland  or  into  a  cloister.  People  cloister  themselves  in 
their  parlors  or  their  churches,  their  studies  or  their  clubs, 
their  cliques,  their  parties,  their  sects.  So  they  escape  tim- 
idly, I  may  say  as  cowards,  from  the  battle  of  the  present 
hour.  For  the  present  hour  is  always  the  scene  of  a  great 
battle  between  right  and  wrong,  truth  and  falsehood,  good 
and  evil ;  and  no  one  has  a  right  to  fly  from  it  into  Dream- 
land or  Bookland,  or  even  into  meditations  on  a  heaven 
which  God  does  not  deem  it  well  to  give  us  as  yet. 

The  third  and  highest  condition  of  human  culture,  there- 
fore, is  that  in  which  rrian  lives  in  the  present,  but  with  a 
life  drawn  from  the  past  and  the  future.  This  is  the  highest 
point  of  development,  —  to  bring  past  and  future  into  the 
present.  Herein  our  religion  difi^ers  from  all  other  religions, 
and  true  Christianity  differs  from  all  false  Christianities. 
Jesus  was  most  conspiguous  for  this  intense  realism,  bringing 


144  "  THE   ACCEPTED   TIME." 

all  the  past  of  Judaism  and  all  the  future  of  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  into  the  present  moment.  "  Before  Abraham 
was,  I  am."  This  is  the  old  historic  period  identified  with 
the  present  hour.  "  The  hour  cometh,  and  now  is,"  is 
another  favorite  formula  with  the  Master.  The  mind  of 
the  Hebrew  race  was  doubly  saturated  with  glorious  his- 
toric reminiscences  and  glorious  prophetic  anticipations,  with 
ancestral  pride  and  Messianic  hope.  The  wonderful  thing  in 
the  mind  of  Jesus  was,  that  he  could  precipitate  these  re- 
ligious memories  and  hopes  in  one  crystal  form  of  present 
duty,  —  into  a  diamond  life  sparkling  at  once  from  every 
facet  with  faith,  hope,  and  love.  This  was  the  supernatural 
element  in  Jesus,  to  be  able  to  bring  down  heaven  upon 
earth  ;  to  make  immortality  present ;  to  incarnate  the  Mes- 
sianic hope  in  his  own  life  ;  and  to  be,  as  he  said,  in  heaven 
and  upon  earth  at  the  same  moment.  "  No  man  hath 
ascended  into  heaven,  save  he  that  came  down  from  heaven  ; 
even  the  son  of  man  who  is  in  heaven."  For  as  our  thought, 
when  we  utter  it,  comes  out  of  our  mind,  and  yet  remains 
in  our  mind ;  so  Jesus  came  down  from  heaven  into  com- 
munion with  man,  while  inwardly  he  remained  in  heaven  in 
constant  communion  with  God. 

The  miracle  of  his  life  is  to  make  the  supernatural,  natu- 
ral ;  the  infinite,  finite ;  the  past  and  future,  present ;  to 
bring  God's  kingdom  upon  earth,  and  to  show  his  will  done 
here  as  in  heaven.  I  call  it  a  miracle,  because  not  only  no 
other  religion  ever  accomplished  it ;  but,  even  after  it  has 
been  accomplished  by  Jesus,  his  Cliurch  has  never  realized  it. 
The  Church  to-day  does  not  comprehend  it.  On  the  one 
hand,  in  spite  of  his  own  words,  a  part  of  the  Church  re- 
fuses to  accept  a  present  salvation,  and  transfers  it  all  to  the 
other  world  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  those  who  do  accept 
it  make  of  it  a  mere  commonplace  morality,  and  make  of 
him  only  a  teacher  of  ethics. 

But  "  the  hour  cometh,  and  now  is,"  when  we  shall  under- 


145 

stand  Christianity  better,  and  see  that  now  is  the  day  of  sal- 
vation. In  other  words,  we  shall  see  that  the  work  of  the 
gospel  is  to  show  to  us  God  present  with  us  ;  to  show  that 
Christ  is  "  Immanuel,"  God  with  us  ;  to  show  that  heaven 
and  hell  are  here ;  that  Christian  salvation  is  a  present  sal- 
vation ;  that  Christ  saves  us  only  as  he  is  a  present  Saviour  ; 
that  immortality  must  begin  now ;  that  we  must  have  eter- 
nal life  abiding  in  us  while  in  this  world. 

I  think  some  of  our  writers  make  a  great  mistake  in  un- 
dervaluing the  historic  and  actual  life  of  Jesus.  An  intei-- 
esting  book  has  been  lately  published  by  a  distinguished  gen- 
eral officer  in  the  United  States  service,  which  resolves  the 
life  of  Jesus  into  symbols.*  History  disappears  in  a  system 
of  ideas.  Now,  the  ideal,  by  itself,  is  no  more  reality  than 
the  actual  by  itself.  I  mean  to  say,  that  ideas  which  never 
have  been  incorporated,  never  have  been  put  in  action,  are, 
as  yet,  not  vital.  They  do  not  affect  the  soul  of  men  as 
seed.  They  do  not  tend  to  progress.  But  whenever  an 
idea  is  acted  out,  whenever  a  great  truth  is  really  lived,  it 
becomes  a  source  of  life  to  multitudes.  If  the  Gospels, 
therefore,  do  not  give  an  account  of  an  actual  life,  they  are 
no  more  the  seeds  of  life  to  the  world  than  Spenser's  "  Fairy 
Queen,"  or  any  other  romance  containing  ideas  of  truth  and 
beauty.  It  is  not  till  the  great  truth  becomes  a  great  fact 
that  it  really  helps  us   to    live   it.     Suppose  that  General 

*  The  book  by  Major  General  Hitchcock,  '•  Christ  the  Spirit,"  is 
the  most  recent  illustration  of  that  habit  of  min^  which  has  existed  in 
all  ages  of  the  Christian  Church,  and  in  nearly  all  rehgions  of  men, 
to  idealize  history  into  symbols.  This  tendency  is  represented  by 
Philo,  as  regards  Judaism ;  and  in  Christianity  by  a  long  series  of 
mystical  writers,  —  including  such  names  as  Savonarola  and  Sweden- 
borg,  —  who  remind  us  of  what  Kant  says  of  Plato  ("Kritik  der 
reinen  Vernunft;  Einleitung  ")  :  "  The  dove,  in  his-  free  flight,  feel- 
ing the  resistance  of  the  air,  might  imagine  that  it  would  move  more 
easily  in  a  vacuum.  So  did  Plato  leave  the  world  of  reahty,  passing 
on  the  wings  of  ideas  into  the  empty  spaces  of  pure  intelligence." 
10 


146  "  THE   ACCEPTED   TIME." 

Washington  were  a  myth  or  a  symbol,  the  invention  of  some 
meditative  sage:  would  his  story  affect  us  as  it  does?  I 
read,  in  novels  and  romances,  tales  of  heroism  and  devo- 
tion ;  but  the  sight  of  one  heroic  deed,  the  knowledge  of  one 
generous  action,  the  coming  in  contact  with  one  man  or 
woman  who  is  really  living  nobly,  does  me  more  good  than 
a  whole  library  of  romantic  tales.  Suppose  one  should 
learn  to-day  that  the  story  of  Savonarola,  of  Luther,  of 
Joan  of  Arc,  of  John  Brown,  of  Theodore  Winthrop,  were 
merely  symbolic  stories  ;  that  no  such  lives  had  ever  actually 
been  lived ;  that  no  such  sufferings  had  ever  actually  been 
borne:  should  we  not  lose  something?  Therefore  it  seems 
to  me  wonderful  that  any  speculation  can  so  undervalue 
history  as  to  say,  that  if  the  story  of  Jesus  be  a  symbol 
only,  and  not  a  fact,  it  can  do  as  much  good  as  now. 

Christ,  therefore,  to  be  of  any  use  to  us,  must  be  a  present 
Christ.  The  historic  Christ  of  the  New  Testament,  and  the 
ideal  Christ  of  Christian  anticipation,  must  be  realized  in 
the  present,  in  order  to  help  us.  The  hope  of  glory  is  Christ 
within  us.  The  study  of  the  Gospels  is  necessary  to  make 
us  acquainted  with  Jesus  as  a  person  ;  but  this  person  must 
become  our  friend  in  all  our  daily  walk,  in  order  to  save  us 
from  evil  and  sin.  He  foretold  that  he  would  come  again  as 
a  Holy  Spirit.  We  must  feel  him  present,  as  the  Holy 
Spirit,  in  society,  in  history,  in  providence,  our  own  heart. 
We  must  feel  him  present  in  all  true  reform,  in  all  coura- 
geous struggle,  in  all  noble  endeavor.  We  must  believe  in  his 
resurrection  and  astension  as  well  as  in  his  death.  He  did 
not  die  on  the  cross :  he  lives,  and  has  risen  to  that  higher 
.spiritual  state  in  which  he  can  be  present  and  active  to-day. 

Some  good  people  tell  us  that  Christ  is  to  come  in  1868, 
in  some  outward  form ;  and  think  that  they  do  us  a  favor  by 
that  information.  But  if  Christ  is  not  here  now,  his  com- 
ing in  18G8  will  do  us  little  good.  And  as  to  his  coming  in 
some  outward  shape,  I,  for  my  own  part,  would  say  with 


"  THE   ACCEPTED   TIME."  147 

Paul,  that  I  take  less  interest  in  that  than  in  his  coming  as 
spirit  and  power  in  society,  history,  and  life.*  No  doubt  he 
will  come  in  1868,  but  only  as  he  is  coming  now  in  1861  ;  f 
and  those  who  do  not  see  him  now  will  not  see  him  then.  I 
see  Christ  visible  to-day.  I  see  him  plainly,  coming  in  these 
magnificent  events  of  the  present  hour.  I  see  him  in  this 
coming  emancipation  of  a  great  people,  so  long  tied  down  by 
compromises,  and  fastened  to  the  dead  corpse  of  corrupt  and 
corrupting  institutions.  If  Christ  is  not  here,  where  can  he 
be?  If  he  is  not  in  this  fine  awakening  of  a  nation,  in  this 
new  crisis  of  history,  in  this  inspiration  which  bears  all  our 
youth  onward  to  battle  for  their  country,  and  makes  their 
life  poor  until  it  can  be  given  for  justice,  law,  and  freedom ; 
if  he  is  not  here  with  us  in  sympathy,  influence,  and  help,  — 
then  he  has  changed  from  the  Christ  whose  holy  feet  walked 
over  the  acres  of  Palestine,  bearing  sympathy  to  earth's  sor- 
rows, and  help  to  mortal  weakness  and  sin.  Do  not  talk  of 
1868.  Let  us  see  Christ  here  in  the  slave  whose  fetters  are 
breaking ;  here  in  the  nation  which  is  arising  out  of  selfish- 
ness into  generosity.  Christ  is  coming  in  1868  ;  but  he  is 
coming  in  the  form  of  the  hungry,  the  thirsty,  the  naked,  the 
stranger,  the  sick,  and  the  prisoner.  Find  these,  and  you 
find  him.  For  salvation,  too,  to  be  of  any  use  to  us,  must  be 
a  present  salvation.  It  is  not  enough  that  I  passed  through 
some  experience,  and  repented,  and  was  converted,  and  born 
again  last  year.  I  must  repent  to-day  ;  I  must  be  converted 
to-day  ;  I  must  be  born  again  to-day.  What  I  did  yesterday 
answered  for  yesterday,  but  does  not  answer  for  to-day.  Nor 
can  I  hope  to  be  saved  in  the  future,  except  as  I  am  saved 
now.  Immortality  must  begin  here.  God  is  here  ;  Christ 
is  here  ;  his  Holy  Spirit  is  here  ;  all  good  angels  are  here  ; 

*  Paul  says,  "  Though  Ave  have  known  Christ  after  the  flesh,  yet 
now  henceforth  know  we  him  no  more." 

t  This  sermon  was  preached  in  the  first  year  of  the  war. 


148 

all  truth  is  here  ;  and  I  can  be  saved  now  by  trusting  in  God 
as  my  Father  and  my  Friend. 

We  have  read  the  story  of  a  man,  who,  led  by  some  whim, 
left  his  home,  and  went  into  another  street,  and  there  lived 
by  himself  secretly  for  many  years.  Every  evening  he  went 
by  his  house,  and  looked  into  the  windows,  and  saw  his 
family  sitting  together,  but  did  not  go  in  ;  till  at  last,  after 
many  years,  passing  the  house  as  usual,  he  turned  up  the 
steps,  opened  the  door,  and  entered,  and  was  once  again  re- 
ceived into  the  circle  of  sweet  love.  We  wonder  at  the  folly 
which  can  thus  throw  away  years  of  affection  and  joy  ;  but 
we  do  just  so.  We  pass  by,  day  after  day,  the  home  of  our 
soul ;  we  postpone,  day  after  day,  entering  into  the  love  of 
God  and  Christ.  So  we  let  years  go  by :  but,  at  last,  we 
determine  to  go  in  ;  and  then,  in  the  peace  of  forgiven  sin, 
in  the  sense  of  God's  fatherly  love,  in  the  consciousness  of 
living  in  our  true  home,  we  wonder  that  we  postponed  it  so 
long  ;  consented  so  long,  in  our  folly,  to  live  away  from  God, 
and  so  away  from  heaven. 

For,  in  fine,  heaven  and  hell  are  both  present  also :  they 
are  both  here. 

For  what  is  hell,  and  what  is  heaven  ?  Hell  is  absence 
from  God :  heaven  is  the  presence  of  God.  To  turn  away 
from  God  in  our  wilful  choice ;  to  separate  ourselves  from 
him  in  our  selfishness  ;  to  go,  like  the  prodigal,  into  a  far 
country,  —  that  is  hell.  It  carries  with  it  the  famine  of  the 
soul,  the  mortal  hunger,  the  decay  and  death  of  all  our  best 
nature.  We  are  dead  while  we  live,  when  we  are  away 
from  God :  there  is  no  real  satisfaction  in  anything.  And 
what  is  heaven  but  to  return  to  God,  and  so  find  satisfaction 
in  everything ;  to  cease  from  selfish  ends  ;  to  give  ourselves 
up  to  noble  and  true  purposes  !  Those  who  live  pure  and 
generous  lives  have  tasted  already  "  the  powers  of  the  world 
to  come." 

Thus  Christ  glorifies  the  present,  throwing  over  it  the 


"  THE   ACCEPTED   TIME.''    '  149 

ideal  glow  of  the  past,  and  the  roseate  beauty  of  the  future. 
He  transfigures  the  present  by  the  great  idea  of  beauty,  and 
the  inspiration  of  God's  love.  As  he  appeared  on  the 
mountain  in  glory,  talking  with  Moses  and  Elias  of  the 
things  belonging  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  so  he  summons 
the  past  to  talk  with  him  in  the  present  concerning  the  future. 
Therefore  there  is  no  condition  of  life  so  humble,  no  work  of 
life  so  common,  no  sphere  of  duty  so  low,  as  not  to  grow  full 
of  grace  and  charm  as  Christ  comes  to  it.  Intense  light 
thrown  upon  a  piece  of  common  earth,  in  a  microscope, 
changes  it  into  a  fairyland  of  beauty :  so  the  intense  light  of 
Christian  truth  beautifies  the  most  insignificant  moment 
of  our  life.  We  feel  that  now  is  the  accepted  time,  that 
now  is  the  day  of  salvation.  The  present  moment  becomes 
infinitely  interesting.  We  cease  to  meditate  on  the  past,  or 
dream  about  the  future  :  the  now  is  sufficient  for  us. 

"  No  longer,  forward  or  behind, 
I  look  in  hope  or  fear ; 
But,  grateful,  take  the  good  I  find, 
The  best  of  now  and  here. 

"  And  so  the  shadows  fall  apart, 
And  so  the  west  winds  play ; 
And  all  the  windows  of  my  heart 
I  open  to  the  day." 


XV. 

"WHEN  HE   CAME   TO   HIMSELF." 
Luke  XV.  17:  "And  when  he  came  to  himself." 

THIS  is  rather  a  remarkable  expression.  How  can  one 
come  to  himself?  Are  we  not  always  with  ourselves? 
Do  we  ever  go  away  from  ourselves?  We  may  go  away 
from  home,  friends,  and  native  land ;  we  may  go  from  God 
and  heaven,  and  love  and  peace  ;  we  may  go  away  from  truth 
into  falsehood,  from  innocence  into  crime :  but  can  we  ever 
go  away  from  ourselves?  According  to  the  Horatian  verse, 
never.  "Who,  by  flying  his  country,  can  escape  himself?" 
says  Horace.  And,  if  we  analyze  the  expression,  it  grows 
more  difficult  to  comprehend.  "  He  came  to  himself." 
Wlio  was  the  "he"  that  came  to  himself?  Was  it  the  soul 
that  came  to  the  body,  or  the  body  to  the  soul,  or  the  per- 
sonality, the  personal  will,  which  came  to  the  spirit?  How 
can  the  expression  be  understood  or  explained  by  any  mental 
or  moral  science? 

And  yet  this  phrase  is  one  which  is  quite  common,  found 
in  many  languages  ;  and  we  all  feel  it  to  be  singularly  ap- 
propriate. In  this  passage,  it  is  exactly  the  same  in  Greek 
as  in  Euglish  ;  and  it  is  a  sort  of  expression  so  universal, 
that  there  is  evidently  some  reality  of  human  experience 
lying  beneath  it.  Perhaps  we  can  understand  this  by  seeing 
under  what  circumstances  the  expression  is  used. 

Why  do  we  say  that  a  person  "  has  come  to  himself" 
when    he    recovers    his    consciousness   after  having    fainted 

(150) 


151 


away,  after  a  trance,  after  beiug  stunned  by  a  blow,  after 
delirium?  It  is  because  he  has  become  self-conscious:  he 
has  obtained  possession  of  his  faculties  ;  ceases  to  live  a 
merely  instinctive  life,  and  lives  a  conscious  moral  life.  We 
thus  recognize  that  the  true  self  in  man  is  the  power  of  self- 
consciousness  and  self-direction.  As  long  as  one  has  neither 
self-consciousness  nor  self-direction,  he  is  out  of  himself; 
but,  when  he  has  this  self-possession,  he  has  come  to  him- 
self, he  has  become  himself. 

I  recollect  a  fact  told  me  once  by  a  friend  of  mine,  Avho 
was  a  sailor,  which  I  have  always  thought  a  curious  experi- 
ence, showing  what  kind  of  central  consciousness  in  the  soul 
makes  the  essential  self  in  man.  He  was  one  night  in  a  ter- 
rible thunder-storm  in  the  Gulf  Stream.  The  bolts  of  light- 
ning fell  all  around  the  vessel ;  so  that,  momently  expecting 
it  would  be  struck,  the  captain  told  the  crew  to  stay  forward 
and  aft,  away  from  the  masts.  My  friend,  who  was  the 
mate  of  the  vessel,  thought  he  heard  a  sail  beginning  to 
flap,  and  went  to  the  foot  of  the  mainmast  to  look  up  through 
tlie  solid  darkness,  if  perchance  he  might  see  what  it  was. 
At  that  moment,  the  vessel  was  struck,  and  he  fell  senseless. 
The  effect  of  the  shock  on  the  vessel  was  to  make  it,  for  a 
moment,  lose  its  way  ;  and  the  next  wave  rushed  over  the 
deck,  washing  him  to  the  lee  scuppers.  Probably  the  bath 
saved  his  life.  The  men,  coming  aft  to  see  what  had  hap- 
pened, stumbled  over  him ;  and  he  was  taken  below,  and 
laid  in  a  berth.  An  hour  or  two  after,  the  captain  came 
down  with  a  lantern,  and,  looking  at  him,  spoke  to  him. 
He  looked  at  the  captain,  struggled  to  collect  himself,  and  at 
last  said,  after  a  great  effort  of  reason,  "  I  am  somebody." 
That  was  the  first  sign  that  he  had  come  to  himself.  He 
came  out  of  chaos  to  individuality.  He  was  conscious  that 
he  was  a  person.  Next,  after  another  effort,  he  took  another 
intellectual  step,  and  said,  "I  am  somewhere."  He  first 
individualized   himself,  then  localized  himself.      First  per- 


152  "  WHEN    HE   CAME   TO   HIMSELF." 

souality,  tliea  space.  First  one's  self,  then  the  outward 
world  ;  or,  as  I  suppose  the  German  metaphysicians  would 
say,  first  the  "  I,"  and  then  the  "  Not  I." 

Something  like  this  happens  when  we  come  out  of  a 
dream.  In  sleep,  particularly  if  it  be  deep  and  solid,  if  we 
have  plunged  clear  down  into  the  depths  of  a  profound  sleep, 
to  awake  from  it  is  like  a  resurrection  from  the  dead.  We 
do  not,  for  a  moment,  know  where  we  are  ;  but  I  think  that 
we  do  not  go  so  far  out  of  ourselves  in  sleep  as  this  young 
man  did  who  was  struck  by  lightning.  We  say  when  we 
awake,  "I  am  somewhere  :  where  am  I?"  But  we  do  not 
say,  ''  I  am  some  one."  In  dreams  we  are  still  ourselves  ; 
but  we  cease  to  be  localized.  Place  comes  and  goes  around 
us.  The  scene  shifts ;  we  are  now  at  home ;  a  moment 
after,  somewhere  far  off;  and  we  are  not  surprised.  Espe- 
cially, in  sleep,  the  self-directing  will  is  relieved  from  duty, 
the  sense  of  responsibility  ceases  :  we  are  free  from  all  per- 
manent care,  all  anxiety  about  the  work  of  our  daily  life. 
The  dignity  and  duty  of  choice  are  both  temporarily  removed. 
This  is  what  really  makes  sleep  a  rest :  it  rests  the  body  by 
relaxing  the  steady  tension  of  the  will  over  the  muscles  ;  but 
it  rests  the  soul  more  by  taking  off  the  steady  pressure  of 
purpose  and  obligation  from  the  mind  and  heart.  We  cease 
to  be  responsible  while  we  are  asleep,  —  that  rests  us. 
Hence,  in  our  dreams,  we  often  do  things  with  very  little 
remorse  that  would  shock  our  conscience  when  awake. 
Gentle  persons  dream  that  they  commit  murder,  and  do  not 
feel  at  all  unhappy  about  it.  Therefore  sleep  rests  the  mind 
as  well  as  the  body,  but  therefore  also  it  is  a  lower  state  ; 
and  we  come  to  ourselves  when  we  wake,  by  taking  up  the 
duty  and  dignity  of  conscientious  purpose. 

"  Coming  to  one's  self,"  then,  is  a  phrase  which  very  well 
expresses  the  collecting  of  all  one's  powers  and  faculties 
round  their  true  centre  of  self-consciousness  and  self-direc- 
tion.    You   have  seen  in  water  the  image   of  the   suu  or 


153 

moon.  Something  disturbs  the  surface  of  the  water,  aud 
breaks  it  into  waves.  Immediately  the  image  is  shattered 
in  pieces,  aud  goes  apart,  the  bright  fragments  oscilhitiug  to 
and  fro  on  the  undulating  surface  ;  but  gradually,  as  the 
waves  subside,  these  fragments  of  the  sun's  image  begin  to 
come  together  again.  They  come  nearer  aud  nearer,  each 
approaching  its  proper  place,  until  at  last,  when  the  disturbed 
water  has  become  again  smooth,  the  image  of  the  sun  reap- 
pears once  more  round  and  distinct  as  at  first.  It  has  come 
to  itself. 

So  man  comes  to  himself  after  the  distraction  of  passion, 
after  the  stupor  of  self-indulgence,  after  the  conscience  has 
been  disturbed  by  selfish  sophisms.  He  comes  to  himself 
when  the  broken  image  of  God,  reflected  in  the  inward  mir- 
ror of  conscience,  has  again  grown  distinct  and  clear  within. 
He  comes  to  himself  when  all  his  faculties  gather  subser- 
viently around  their  true  centre  ;  when  the  soul  is  on  its 
throne,  and  truth  is  loved  and  obeyed;  and  Christ,  who  is 
God's  love  in  the  heart,  helps  us  to  forget  ourselves,  and  to 
love  others.  The  soul  of  man  comes  to  its  true  self  in 
humility,  in  obedience,  in  truthfulness,  in  generous  affection  : 
it  is  out  of  itself  till  then.  Thus  sin  is  represented  in  our 
text  as  insanity,  as  a  temporary  delirium,  and  man  as  only 
perfectly  sane  when  he  is  a  child  of  God,  and  desirous,  if  he 
cannot  be  a  sou  loving  his  Father,  to  be  at  least  a  servant 
obeying  him. 

Man's  true  self,  accordingly,  is  good.  Man's  nature  is 
not  bad,  but  good.  When  man  is  himself,  as  God  made 
him  and  meant  him,  he  is  good.  Sin  is  an  unnatural  state  : 
it  is  a  derangement.  We  are  all,  therefore,  when  sinners, 
partially  insane.  We  are  in  a  delirium  till  we  come  to  truth 
and  love.  I  think  that  we  all  sometimes  feel  this.  If  you 
look  back  to  those  hours  of  life  when  you  were  in  your  best 
state  of  mind  ;  when  you  were  most  humble,  most  penitent, 
most  trusting,  most  loving ;  when  selfishness  seemed  killed 


154  "WHEN   HE   CAME  TO    HIMSELF." 

down  to  its  roots  ;  when  passion,  and  love  of  pleasure,  and 
Morldliuess,  were  checked  by  some  great  sorrow ;  when, 
under  the  influence  of  truth  and  goodness,  you  looked  at  life 
with  earnest  eyes,  —  did  it  not  seem  as  if  you  were  now 
more  sane  ?  as  if  you  were  not  only  better,  but  also  wiser  ? 
This,  you  said,  is  the  true  state.  I  am  now  really  myself. 
Every  other  condition  is  morbid :  this  is  healthy.  Every 
other  state  is  feverish  ;  it  is  derangement :  this  is  true  order, 
this  is  self-possession,  this  is  being  whole.  It  is,  therefore, 
not  true  to  say  that  man  by  nature  is  a  child  of  sin.  Man 
by  nature  is  a  child  of  God,  and  only  by  disease  is  a  child 
of  sin.  Sin  is  abnormal.  Goodness  is  his  proper  and 
healthy  condition. 

"  By  our  proper  motion  we  ascend 
Up  to  our  native  height :  descent  and  fall 
To  us  is  adverse." 

The  true  life  of  man  is  the  full  activity  of  all  his  powers, 
each  in  its  place  and  order ;  but  this  fulness  of  manhood 
comes  only  when  man  is  self-poised,  self-possessed,  and  self- 
controlled,  according  to  the  divine  laws.  All  disobedience 
to  God's  laws  reacts  on  the  soul,  and  brings  famine  and 
want  to  some  part  of  the  nature.  It  is  always  derangement, 
insanity,  disease.  No  one  can  grow,  with  a  full  develop- 
ment of  his  nature,  except  according  to  law.  All  self-indul- 
gence tends  to  disease  and  weakness. 

The  selfish  man  of  the  world,  for  example,  is  insane  and 
sick.  He  thinks,  because  he  devotes  himself  to  his  own  pri- 
vate ends,  that  he  will  achieve  success.  He  says,  "  Each 
for  himself:  no  one  can  succeed  in  any  other  way."  He 
thinks  that  very  wise.  So  he  sets  aside  strict  conscience, 
sets  aside  generosity,  and  gives  all  his  energy  to  his  own 
advancement.  Politician,  lawyer,  merchant,  clergyman, 
writer,  whatever  he  is,  he  only  thinks  how  he  can  get  fame, 
position,  power,  respect,  ability,  wealth,  for  himself  alone. 


"WHEN   HE  CAME  TO   HIMSELF."  155 

For  a  time,  he  seems  to  succeed.  He  rises  higher  and 
higher.  He  attains  position.  He  is  distinguished.  He  has 
influence.  He  has  fame.  But  this  is  all  a  diseased  growth. 
There  is  a  famine  within.  He  is  conscious  himself,  and 
others  are  also  conscious,  of  some  fatal  and  essential  defi- 
ciency. Perhaps  you  cannot  tell  what  it  is,  but  you  feel  that 
there  is  something  wrong.  The  real  difliculty  is,  that  he  is 
inwardly  dying.  His  life  is  gradually  oozing  out  of  him. 
The  joy  of  existence  ceases.  He  does  not  really  enjoy  even 
his  own  success.  Those  who  look  at  him  find  something 
hollow  in  him.  The  inevitable  law  holds  him  in  its  relent- 
less grasp.  "He  who  loves  his  life  shall  lose  it:  he  who 
loses  his  life  for  others  shall  find  it."  Selfishness  destroys 
the  true  self.  For  the  true  self  in  man,  the  highest  self,  is 
when  he  looks  out,  not  in  ;  when  he  thinks  of  others,  not  of 
himself;  when  he  lives  for  truth,  not  for  personal  success, — 
lives  for  right  and  justice,  for  humanity  and  for  God. 

This  successful  selfish  man  is  "  perishing  with  hunger." 
Happy  if  he  finds  it  out ;  if  he  has  the  honesty  to  say,  "J 
'perish  with  hunger."  Then  he  comes  to  himself.  In  that 
moment  he  begins  to  rise.  His  true  self  regains  its  su- 
premacy. Then  he  says,  "I  will  go  to  my  Father."  All 
irreligion  and  all  false  religion  are  insanity  and  derange- 
ment. That  man  only  is  perfectly  healthy  in  soul  whose 
heart  within  is  a  smooth  mirror,  reflecting  evermore  the  face 
of  God  ;  but  it  must  be  the  face  of  the  true  God,  our  Father. 
The  face  neither  of  Jupiter  nor  of  Jehovah  will  suffice : 
neither  that  of  the  cold  philosophic  God,  who  is  only  law ; 
nor  of  the  terrible  Calvinistic  God,  who  maintains  an  eternal 
hell,  into  which  he  casts  his  children,  and  on  the  door  of 
which  he  writes,  "  Leave  all  hope  behind,  ye  who  enter 
here."  Such  religion  as  this  deranges,  dwarfs,  stupefies, 
and  cripples  the  soul.  All  imperfect  and  false  religions  dis- 
tort man  out  of  himself. 

But  the  religion  of  Jesus  brings  us  to  ourselves  by  bringing 


156  "  WHEN    HE   CAME   TO    HIMSELF." 

US  to  our  Father.  It  shoAvs  us  our  God,  as  the  Father,  who 
sees  us  a  great  way  off  as  soon  as  we  turn  to  him,  and  kisses 
us  with  the  sweet  inward  kiss  of  peace  in  the  heart  as  soon 
as  we  humble  ourselves  before  the  truth  and  right.  This 
image  of  God  in  the  heart  makes  us  sane,  and  keeps  us  so. 
We  know  where  to  go  now  at  all  times.  We  have  a  friend 
who  knows  us  better  than  we  know  ourselves,  loves  us  better 
than  we  love  ourselves,  helps  us  when  we  cannot  help  our- 
selves, forgives  us  when  we  cannot  forgive  ourselves,  and,  in 
the  midst  of  our  mighty  despair,  breathes  round  our  heart 
the  perfumed  breath  of  a  new  and  divine  hope. 

When  you  know  God  as  he  is,  then  you  have  come  to 
yourself;  then  you  are  safe.  There  is  no  more  danger  then  : 
all  your  faculties  then  unfold  in  their  true  method  and  order : 
we  see  that  life  is  sweet,  that  duty  is  attractive,  that  truth  is 
inspiratiorr,  that  love  is  divine,  that  death 

"Is  but  a  covered  way 
That  opens  into  light, 
Wherein  no  blinded  child  can  stray 
Beyond  the  Father's  sight." 

For,  with  God  in  the  heart,  you  always  feel  at  home.  I  do 
not  think  we  feel  at  home  always  with  our  friends.  Some 
persons  you  are  at  home  with  intellectually  :  you  feel  that 
you  have  come  to  yourself  intellectually  when  talking  with 
them  ;  they  excite  and  bring  out  your  best  intellectual  facul- 
ties. With  others,  you  are  at  home  socially :  you  come  to 
yourself  socially  in  their  presence  ;  they  are  sympathizing, 
uncritical ;  they  do  not  censure  you  ;  they  are  a  sort  of  sunny 
atmosphere,  where,  in  social  hours,  you  expand  and  blossom 
our,  and  rest  yourself.  Then  you  are  at  home  with  others  in- 
dustrially :  you  can  work  witii  them  ;  they  bring  out  all  your 
practical  power;  you  come  to  yourself  as  a  worker  in  their 
society.  Then  you  are  at  home  politically  with  others  :  you 
sympathize  with  them,  and  they  with  you,  in  political  ideas. 


157 


With  others  you  come  to  yourself  in  religions  hours :  they 
and  you  are  in  religious  sympathy.  But  he  who  has  come 
to  God  as  his  own  Father  and  Friend,  who  has  that  image 
in  his  heart,  is  always  at  home,  and  always  himself,  in  that 
presence.  He  does  not  come  to  God  to  kneel,  to  bend,  to 
repent,  to  say  words  of  prayer  and  praise  :  but  when  he  is 
well  and  when  he  is  sick  ;  when  he  is  doing  right  or  going 
wrong;  when  he  is  at  work  or  at  play,  —  he  looks  inward; 
he  feels  the  strengthening,  guiding,  helpiug  hand  ;  he  hears 
the  loving,  tender,  warning  voice  ;  and  he  comes  to  himself. 
He  stands  erect  in  the  fulness  of  his  manhood.  What  can 
he  fear?     He  has  God  in  his  heart. 

Look  abroad  to-day  on  Nature.*  What  is  this  marvellous 
change  which  has  come  over  it?  Everywhere  is  life,  growth, 
beauty  :  the  vast  forests  are  stirred  in  all  their  awful  depths, 
over  the  great  continent,  by  this  invisible  advent  of  divine 
life  which  we  call  Spring.  Every  one  of  their  million  mil- 
lion buds  is  stirred,  and  swells,  and  shakes  out  its  tender 
leaves  to  the  warm  air.  Every  prairie  covers  its  ocean-like 
surface  with  grass  and  flowers.  Not  a  weed  which  creeps 
but  feels  it ;  not  an  insect  beneath  the  sod  but  feels  it.  The 
great  pine-woods  of  Maine  rejoice,  and  clap  their  hands  ; 
and  the  majestic  mountains,  lifting  their  vast  forms  into  the 
silent  depths  of  the  upper  air,  —  great  sentinels,  who  stand 
overlooking  the  continents,  from  age  to  age,  to  watch  the 
progress  of  human  history,  —  all  are  softened  and  vivified  by 
the  Spring.  What  is  this  mighty  change?  It  is  only  that 
the  earth  has  lifted  itself  towards  the  sun.  The  earth  has 
come  to  itself,  —  to  its  true  self;  for  its  true  self  is  in  making 
itself  the  fountain  of  all  this  great  flood  of  life. 

And  so  man  comes  to  himself  when  he  turns  himself  to 
God  :  and,  when  he  does  this,  he,  too,  will  bring  forth  fruits 
and  flowers  ;  he  will  become  full,  all  through  and  through, 

*  This  sermon  was  preached  in  the  Spring. 


158  "  WHEN   HE   CAME   TO    HIMSELF.'* 

with  productive  life ;  he  will  be  the  son  of  man,  because  son 
of  God ;  he  will  be  filled  with  all  the  fulness  of  manhood, 
because  filled  with  all  the  fulness  of  Godhead.  The  earth 
comes  to  itself  when  it  comes  to  the  suu  ;  man  comes  to 
himself  when  he  comes  to  God  ;  society  comes  to  itself  when 
it  obeys  the  divine  law,  and  calls  no  man  common  or  un- 
clean, but  honors  the  weak,  and  helps  the  feeble,  and  com- 
forts the  sad,  and  cures  the  sick ;  the  Church  comes  to 
itself  when  it  ceases  to  dogmatize  about  doctrine,  to  make 
proselytes  to  its  party,  or  to  make  converts  by  terror  and 
persuasion,  —  when  it  devotes  itself  to  showing  God,  the 
Father  of  Christ,  to  the  heart,  intellect,  and  conscience  of 
man,  bringing  the  world  thus  to  God. 

A  nation,  also,  comes  to  itself,  when,  instead  of  devoting 
itself  to  mere  gain  and  outward  prosperity,  it  is  willing  to 
sacrifice  these  for  the  sake  of  its  great  ideas ;  when  it  re- 
nounces peace  and  prosperity  for  the  sake  of  justice,  right, 
humanity.  Our  people,  in  the  midst  of  this  terrible  storm 
of  war,  are  more  truly  themselves  than  they  ever  were 
before :  they  have  come  to  self-consciousness.  Like  my 
poor  friend,  the  nation  says,  coming  to  itself,  "  I  am  some- 
body, and  I  am  somewhere.  I  am  a  nation  with  ideas  and 
duties,  and  I  am  here  to  do  them."  And  that  is  what  it  has 
not  said  before  for  the  last  thirty  or  forty  years.  Patriotism 
is  the  self-consciousness  of  a  nation  ;  and  while  we  only  were 
individuals,  struggling  for  our  own  selfish  good,  we  had  no 
patriotism,  and  could  have  none. 

When  men  wish  to  try  the  force  of  a  cannon,  and  the 
momentum  of  its  ball,  there  are  two  methods  by  which  they 
do  it.  They  suspend  a  heavy  pendulum  of  iron  and  Avood 
weighing  several  tons,  and  shoot  the  ball  against  it;  then 
I  hey  determine  the  force  of  the  ball  by  seeing  how  far  the 
pendulum  swings  out  of  the  perpendicular  by  the  impact  of 
the  shot.  Or  else  they  suspend  the  gun  itself  in  a  pendu- 
lum ;  and,  when  it  is  fired,  see  how  far  the  recoil  causes  the 


"  WHEN   HE   CAME   TO   HIMSELF.'*  159 

pendulum  in  which  it  hangs  to  swing  back  out  of  the  per- 
pendicular. Now,  it  is  found  that  the  result  is  almost  ex- 
actly the  same  in  the  two  cases.  The  gun-pendulum  gives 
precisely  the  same  result  as  the  ballistic-pendulum  ;  that  is 
to  say,  the  recoil  of  the  gun  is  exactly  equal  to  the  force  with 
which  it  projects  the  ball.  So  also  it  is  with  man's  every 
action.  Action  and  reaction  are  equal  in  our  life.  "  Draw 
nigh  to  God,  and  he  draws  nigh  to  you.'*  '*  Arise,  and  go  to 
your  Father,"  and  your  Father  comes  to  you.  "  Give,  and 
it  shall  be  given."  Do  good  to  others,  and  love  comes  back 
to  fill  your  own  heart  with  joy.  But  seek  a  selfish  good,  and 
you  lose  yourself.  Try  to  live  for  yourself  alone,  and  you  go 
out  of  yourself ;  you  lose  your  self-poise,  your  self-conscious- 
ness, your  self-control. 

Let  us,  then,  come  to  ourselves  by  coming  to  God  ;  by  obey- 
ing him  ;  by  living  for  his  truth  ;  by  giving  ourselves  to  true 
and  just  ends ;  by  filling  life  with  nobleness,  truth,  purity, 
and  love. 


XVI. 

THE   CHEERFUL  GIVER. 

2  Cor.  ix.  7 :  "  God  loveth  a  cheerful  giver." 

"  i  LMSGIVING  and  prayer,"  says  the  Koran,  *'are  the 
J^^  two  wings  of  the  soul,  by  means  of  which  it  flies  to 
heaven.  The  soul  cannot  mount  with  either  by  itself,  any 
more  than  the  bird  can  fly  with  one  wing."  This  is  a  very 
good  saying,  if  it  means  that  faith  and  works  must  go  togeth- 
er, —  faith  without  works  being  dead,  and  works  without 
faith  being  machinery  which  has  never  been  alive. 

The  Jewish  Scriptures  also  lay  great  stress  on  almsgiving, 
"  He  who  hath  pity  on  the  poor  lendeth  to  the  Lord,"  says 
the  proverb. 

But,  according  to  Christianity,  it  is  not  enough  to  give  ; 
the  question  is  hoiu  to  give.  The  spirit  in  which  one  gives 
is  the  important  thing.  A  man  may  give  as  the  Pharisee, 
who  sounded  a  trumpet  before  him ;  or  he  may  give,  not  let- 
ting his  left  hand  know  what  his  right  hand  doeth.  Men 
may  give  because  they  thiuk  they  ought,  though  they  had 
rather  not ;  or  because  they  are  expected  to  give,  and  will 
be  considered  mean  if  they  do  not ;  or  because  everybody 
else  is  giving,  and  they  don't  like  to  be  singular.  They  may 
give  grudgingly,  and  scold  about  it,  and  say,  "  they  have  to 
give  all  the  time;"  or  they  may  give  cheerfully,  promptly, 
joyfully,  lovingly,  just  as  if  it  was  the  pleasautcst  thing  in 
the  world  to  do,  as  indeed  it  is. 

However,  giving  money  is  not  the  only  thing  I  am  to  speak 


THE  CHEERFUL   GIVER.  161 

of  this  morning.  I  shall  say  a  word  of  that,  and  then  speak 
of  other  ways  of  giving.  But,  in  all  our  giving,  we  must 
give,  "  not  grudgingly,  nor  of  necessity  ;  for  God  loves  a 
cheerful  giver."  • 

Christianity  did  not  invent  giving.  Giving  is  a  luxury 
which  has  been  enjoyed  in  all  ages,  religions,  and  countries. 
The  Humane  Society  in  Massachusetts  has  built  huts  on  the 
south  side  of  Cape  Cod,  where  ships  often  go  ashore  in  win- 
ter ;  and  have  put  straw  and  firewood  m  them,  and  other 
comforts  for  the  poor  people  who  have  need.  But  the 
Brahmin  Gangooly  tells  us  that  the  Hindoos,  too,  practise  a 
wayside  hospitality.  Private  persons  build  cottages  by  the 
side  of  the  roads  where  the  tired  passengers  refresh  them- 
selves. Every  cottage  has  a  man  hired  to  keep  it,  and  to 
ask  the  passer-by  to  walk  in,  and  be  rested.  The  Brahmins 
do  not  often  go  there,  for  they  do  not  think  it  quite  respect- 
able to  go  to  such  places  ;  but  low-caste  travellers  go  in,  and 
are  entertained  with  sugar,  pease,  and  cold  water ;  and  even 
large  tubs  of  water  are  put  outside  for  the  cattle  to  drink. 

So  you  see  that  humanity  and  hospitality  are  not  Chris- 
tian inventions.  They  were  invented  when  God  Almighty 
invented  man,  and  put  into  him  such  a  complex  host  of 
tendencies,  reaching  out  in  all  directions,  some  downward  to 
the  earth,  some  upward  to  the  skies,  some  abroad  towards 
his  fellow-man.  Self-love  was  put  into  him,  but  sympathy 
to  balance  it ;  freedom  was  given  him,  but  something  fatal 
to  balance  it ;  the  love  of  getting,  but  the  love  of  giving 
too  ;  the  love  of  keeping  to  himself,  and  the  love  of  helping 
others. 

What,  then,  is  specially  Christian  in  giving?  I  think  it  is 
love,  —  love  to  God  and  man,  blending  in  one,  in  every  gift ; 
and  love  is  always  a  cheerful  giver.  Love  does  not  grumble 
at  being  called  on  ever  so  often.  Love  does  not  merely  give 
what  is  necessary  or  expected :  it  chooses  to  surprise  by 
some  unexpected  present,  —  something  entirely  uncalled  for. 
11 


162  THE   CHEERFUL   GIVER. 

Suppose  you  should  meet  a  lover  goiug  with  a  magnificent 
bunch  of  roses  to  give  to  the  lady  to  whom  he  was  engaged 
yesterday,  and  should  say,  "It  is  not  necessary  to  give  so 
many  ;  you  have  a  dozen  roses  there,  —  three  or  four  would 
have  been  enough  ;  "  or,  "  Why  do  you  give  her  that  hand- 
somely bound  book?  one  in  cloth  would  answer,"  —  I  do 
not  think  he  would  thank  you  for  your  economical  sugges- 
tion. He  does  not  give  grudgingly,  or  of  necessity.  But 
Mr.  Beecher  tells  us  that  there  are  "  many  professing  Chris- 
tians who  are  secretly  vexed  on  account  of  the  charity  they 
have  to  bestow,  and  the  self-denial  they  have  to  use.  If,  in- 
stead of  the  smooth  prayers  they  do  pray,  they  would  speak 
out  the  things  they  really  feel,  they  would  say,  when  they 
go  home  at  night,  '  O  Lord  !  I  met  a  poor  wretch  of  yours 
to-day,  a  miserable  unwashed  brat,  and  I  gave  him  sixpence, 
and  I  have  been  sorry  for  it  ever  since  ; '  or,  '  O  Lord  !  if  I 
had  not  signed  those  articles  of  faith,  I  might  have  gone  to 
the  theatre  this  evening.  Your  religion  deprives  me  of  a 
great  deal  of  enjoyment :  but  I  mean  to  stick  to  it.  There 
is  no  other  way  of  getting  into  heaven,  I  suppose.' " 

A  gift  which  expresses  love  carries  gladness  with  it,  and 
leaves  gladness  behind  it;  blessing  him  who  gives,  and  him 
who  takes.  Gifts  among  friends  are  pleasant :  but  I  do  not 
know  that  there  is  anything  particularly  Cliristi^iu  about  them  ; 
and,  unless  you  take  great  care,  they  will  suddenly  become 
uncomfortable,  and  lose  their  first  freedom.  They  should 
never  come  to  be  expected.  Better  to  remember  what  Jesus' 
said :  "  Thou,  when  thou  givest  a  feast,  call  not  thy  rich 
friends  and  neighbors,  who  can  give  to  thee  again  ;  but  call 
in  the  poor,  the  maimed,  the  halt,  and  the  blind."  On  the 
whole,  people  who  love  each  other  had  better  not  give  a 
great  deal  to  each  other.  They  have  already  given  the  best 
thing  in  loving  each  other. 

Suppose,  then,  we  give  only  to  strangers  and  to  the  poor. 
There  is  great  delight  in  giving  when  the  gift  comes  uucx- 


THE   CHEERFUL   GIVER.  163 

pectedly,  and  when  it  goes  a  great  way.  But  there  are 
rocks  on  all  sides  ;  and  here,  too,  we  risk  becoming  self- 
satisfied  and  ostentatious  in  our  charities,  as  though  we 
had  done  some  great  thing  in  giving  a  little  of  our  super- 
fluity :  so  that  what  Jesus  says,  of  not  letting  the  left  hand 
know  what  the  right  hand  does,  may  come  in  well  as  a 
wholesome   safeguard  against  such  dangers. 

The  Church,  in  its  anxiety  to  do  all  the  good  it  can,  some- 
times forgets  its  Master's  rule.  All  the  missionary  and 
Bible  societies,  and  all  philanthropic  societies,  appeal  to 
very  mixed  motives, — to  the  motive  of  ostentation,  by 
publishing  lists  of  donors  in  all  annual  reports ;  to  the 
motive  of  necessity,  by  showing  to  every  man  how  much 
is  expected  of  him  ;  to  the  motive  of  conscience,  by  making 
it  seem  to  be  an  absolute  and  commanding  duty,  which  it 
would  be  a  sin  to  shirk  ;  to  the  motive  of  fear,  teaching  that 
God  may  punish  our  unwise  and  unrighteous  economy  by 
some  sudden  retribution  ;  and  even  to  the  motive  of  worldly 
gain,  hinting  that  those  Avho  give  freely  for  religious  objects 
are  apt  to  be  largely  rewarded  in  this  world.  In  this  way, 
Christians  are  induced  to  give  much  to  all  these  great  chari- 
ties ;  but  they  cease  to  give  freely  and  joyfully.  They  are 
educated  to  give  grudgingly,  and  as  of  necessity,  by  the  very 
process  which  is  taken  to  induce  them  to  give. 

Now,  it  seems  to  me  that  so  much  pleasure  comes  from 
giving  in  a  right  way  and  for  right  purposes,  that  the 
Christian  Church,  by  this  time,  ought  to  have  been  educated 
to  a  large,  systematic,  ana  cheerful  benevolence. 

But  there  are  other  kinds  of  giving  besides  giving  money. 
And  the  second  kind  of  giving  I  have  to  mention  is  giving 
up.  It  is  making  sacrifices  of  what  we  like  ;  giving  up  to 
conscience  and  right  and  truth  our  desires,  ease,  and  com- 
fort. We  are  all  called  on  to  do  this.  No  one  can  have  his 
way,  or  do  Avhat  he  would  like  to  do.  But,  when  we  give 
up,  it  is  Christian  to  give  up  "  not  grudgingly  nor  of  neces- 
sity."    God  loves  a  cheerful  giver  also  here. 


164  THE    CHEERFUL   GIVER. 


Many  people  parade  their  sacrifices,  exaggerate  what 
they  endiire  for  conscience'  sake,  and  make  k)ud  hiraenta- 
tion  over  their  hard  fate.  Jesus  says,  "  Thou,  when  thou 
fastest,  anoint  thy  head,  and  wash  thy  face,  that  thou  appear 
not  unto  men  to  fast."  Haydou  spent  his  life  in  painting 
historical  pictures,  in  quarrelling  with  those  who  did  not  like 
them,  and  in  scolding  because  they  were  not  better  liked ; 
crying  out  against  the  false  taste  of  the  age,  that  would  give 
a  ballet-dancer  a  hundred  pounds  an  evening,  and  would  not 
pay  him  for  his  pictures.  But  I  think  such  complaints  show 
that  a  man  has  not  a  pure  love  for  his  art.  What  he  chiefly 
wanted  were  fame  and  money,  not  success  in  his  art.  I  do 
not  think  that  Fra  Angelico  and  Andrea  del  Sarto,  when 
painting,  for  a  few  dollars,  pictures  whifth  cannot  be  bought 
now  for  as  many  thousands,  complained  that  they  made  too 
great  sacrifices  for  their  art.  Their  art  was  reward  in 
itself.  It  was  reward  enough  to  see  the  gradual  realization 
of  their  dream ;  to  see  the  face  of  saint  or  holy  martyr  or 
tender  angelic  child  come  beaming  out  on  their  canvas,  — 
their  heaven-sent  inspiration  fixed  in  glory  and  beauty  to 
elevate  and  sweeten  life  for  generations  unborn.  Whenever 
a  man  makes  a  sacrifice  for  any  great  cause  or  noble  end,  he 
is  repaid,  and  more  than  repaid,  at  the  time,  if  his  motive  be 
pure.  "  He  has  a  hundred-fold  more  now  in  the  present 
time."  Therefore,  how  cheerful  and  happy  are  most  artists 
in  their  poverty !  How  cheerful  and  happy  are  the  men  and 
women  who  work  in  any  great  humane  cause,  or  contend  for 
any  unpopular  truth  !  They  are  amply  compensated  for  pop- 
ular neglect  or  odium  by  the  ardent  love  of  a  few,  by  their 
own  secure  sense  of  strength,  by  the  consciousness  of  being 
right,  by  the  foresight  of  an  ultimate  triumph  of  their  cause, 
by  the  knowledge  that  it  is  even  now  triumphant.  Only  let 
love  be  the  motive,  not  vanity  or  pride,  and  you  do  not  know 
that  you  are  giving  up  anything.  All  great  discoverers,  like 
Columbus,  Kane,  Tarry  ;  all  great  inventors,  like  those  who 


THE   CHEERFUL   GIVER.  165 

invented  printing,  cotton  machinery,  the  steam-engine,  the 
steamboat,  the  locomotive, — live  in  poverty  and  neglect, 
and,  all  their  lives,  are  usually  called  dreamers  and  vision- 
aries ;  but  they  are  very  cheerful,  for  they  are  in  love  with 
their  ideas. 

If  you  look  over  the  Harvard  College  catalogue,  you  will 
see  that  there  are  some  families  in  New  England  which  are 
always  represented.  In  almost  every  class  there  is  one  of 
them,  — an  Allen  or  a  Stearns  or  an  Abbot  or  a  Parker  or  a 
Williams  ;  and  many  of  these  names  are  in  Italics,  indicat- 
ing that  they  became  clergymen.  The  same  names  are  also 
in  all  the  other  New  England  colleges.  Each  one  of  these 
country  clergymen,  on  a  salary  of  six  or  eight  hundred  dol- 
lars, sends  all  his  sons  to  college,  just  as  he  was  sent ;  and 
they  go  through  the  Union  as  ministers,  physicians,  lawyers, 
merchants,  members  of  Congress,  useful  men,  leading  men 
everywhere.  How  do  these  clergymen  contrive,  with  their 
small  salaries,  to  send  all  their  sons  to  college  ?  Why,  the 
whole  family  unite  in  glad  sacrifices  and  self-denials.  When 
the  time  comes  for  another  son  to  go,  the  father  sells  his 
horse,  and  gives  up  his  newspaper,  with  his  annual  journey 
to  the  May  anniversaries  ;  the  mother  makes  butter,  and 
sells  both  it  and  her  eggs  ;  the  daughters  teach  in  the  pri- 
mary schools  in  the  neighboring  towns.  All  earn  a  little 
and  save  a  little.  The  boy  himself  teaches  school  in  the 
vacation,  and  perhaps  earns  something  more  by  teaching  the 
idle  son  of  a  rich  man  ;  and  so  he  gets  through  college.  Do 
they  do  this  grudgingly?  No:  they  enjoy  their  sacrifices, 
and  do  not  appear  unto  the  neighbors  to  fast.  Very  often 
they  go  without  meat  for  dinner,  or  without  sugar  in  their 
tea ;  and  that,  I  think,  is  a  better  fast  in  the  sight  of  God 
than  eating  fish  instead  of  meat  because  it  is  Friday,  and 
telling  all  your  neighbors  that  you  have  been  fasting.  I  do 
not  now  refer  to  honest  Catholics,  who  fast  in  Lent  and  on 
Friday   because   they  have   been  taught  so,  and  know  no 


166  THE    CHEERFUL   GIVER. 

better  ;  but  to  those  modern  Catholics,  who  play  being  Cath- 
olic, and  have  a  sort  of  aesthetic  and  sentimental  religion, 
made  up  of  poor  imitations  of  a  worn-out  ritual. 

The  third  kind  of  giving  is  giving  ourselves,  —  giving  our- 
selves up  to  God  by  the  submission  and  surrender  of  our 
wills  ;  or  w^iat  we  call  conversion. 

Nothing  shows  more  strikingly  how  low  are  the  motives 
in  much  of  our  religion  than  the  gloomy  way  in  which  men 
become  religious.  Too  many  are  driven  to  God  by  fear  of 
his  anger  or  of  an  outward  hell.  They  had  rather  stay 
away  from  him  if  they  could,  and  usually  do  stay  away  as 
long  as  they  can.  They  postpone  religion  till  they  are  too 
old  for  anything  else,  and  then  lead  a  religious  life,  looking 
discontented  and  gloomy,  as  if  to  love  God  and  be  loved  by 
him  was  the  most  disagreeable,  though  the  most  necessary, 
of  all  duties. 

But  w^hat  is  being  religious,  but  ahvays  seeing  God's  in- 
finite love  in  everything,  and  loving  him  all  the  time?  It  is 
seeing  his  mercy  in  the  sun  and  sky  ;  in  the  hills  and  plains  ; 
in  daily  life,  with  its  discipline  and  education  ;  in  the  friend- 
ship of  our  friends ;  in  our  insight  into  new  truths  ;  in  the 
grand  opportunities  of  daily  service  of  the  human  race  which 
he  affords  us.  It  is  hearing  and  answering  his  invitation  to 
come  to  him  to  be  inspired,  to  be  filled  with  light,  to  be 
filled  with  love,  to  be  filled  with  power. 

Suppose  all  the  little  buds  and  seeds  should  say,  "  O, 
dear !  April  has  come ;  and  now  we  shall  have  to  unpack 
ourselves,  and  go  out  of  these  snug  little  chambers  where  we 
have  been  sleeping  all  winter,  with  nothing  to  do  but  rest. 
It  is  getting  warmer  and  Warmer  every  day.  Strange 
thrills  pass  through  us,  '  the  blind  motions  of  the  Spring.' 
But  do  let  us  stay  as  long  as  we  can,  shut  up  here  ;  for  it 
will  be  a  very  gloomy  thing  to  go  out  into  the  soft  summer 
air,  and  unfold  ourselves  in  the  sunlight  into  tremulous 
leaves,  bending  stalks,  and  fragrant  flowers."     But  Nature 


THE    CHEERFUL   GIVER.  167 

does  not  look  unhappy  in  unfolding.  "  It  is  my  faith  that 
every  flower  enjoys  the  life  it  breathes."  And  why,  if  seeds 
and  buds  enjoy  unfolding  in  the  sun,  should  not  our  souls 
enjoy  unfolding  in  the  sunlight  of  our  Father's  infinite  ten- 
derness and  perfect  love? 

Here  are  two  young  folks  that  have  just  agreed  that  life 
would  be  misery  except  they  can  live  for  each  other,  and 
give  themselves  up  for  each  other.  Now,  suppose  that 
these  young  people,  just  falling  in  love,  should  say,  "  What 
a  very  solemn  thing  it  is  to  have  to  love  each  other !  " 
Suppose  they  should  go  about  with  long  faces,  and  put 
off  the  marriage-day  for  as  many  years  as  they  could, 
saying  they  were  afraid  they  did  not  love  each  other  well 
enough  to  be  married,  and  finally,  on  their  wedding-day,  feel 
as  if  they  had  made  some  great  sacrifice  for  each  other,  and 
given  up  a  great  deal.     That  would  not  be  love,  would  it? 

All  human  love  is  typical  of  divine  love.  Love  is  love, 
whether  its  object  be  God  or  man.  It  is  that  miracle  by 
which  we  are  able  to  live  out  of  ourselves  in  another  life, — 
absolutely  escaping  from  ourselves.  Man  is  selfish,  say  the 
wise  sceptical  philosophers  ;  but  what  they  do  not  see  is, 
that  this  centripetal  force  of  self-preservation  is  balanced  by 
a  centrifugal  force  of  enthusiastic  interest  in  that  which  is 
least  ourselves.  There  is  native  to  man  a  joy  in  finding 
something  other  than  himself,  —  a  joy  in  giving  himself  up 
to  the  life  of  another,  and  thinking  only  what  that  other  is 
and  does  and  wishes.  This  is  just  as  natural  to  man  as 
self-love  ;  and,  while  self-love  is  necessary,  self-surrender  is 
joyful. 

Then  why  should  we  give  ourselves  grudgingly,  and  as  of 
necessity,  to  the  love  of  God?  Why  hesitate  and  tremble, 
and  think  we  are  not  good  enough  to  love  him,  or  to  be 
loved  by  hitr  ;  and  that  it  is  some  great  sacrifice  we  are 
making,  whe'  we  enter  into  the  sweet  peace  of  our  heavenly 
Father's  tenderness  and  grace  ? 


168  THE   CHEERFUL   GIVER. 

I  understand  thus  why  Jesus,  when  he  called  a  disciple, 
wished  him  to  come  at  once.  It  was  the  test  of  the  motive. 
Love  does  not  hesitate.  Love  leaves  all,  and  follows.  Love 
does  not  say,  "  Suffer  me  first  to  go  and  bury  my  father." 
Those  disciples  who  dropped  their  nets  in  the  boat,  and  fol- 
lowed Jesus,  did  not  hesitate,  calculate,  grieve,  or  look 
gloomy,  but  were  attracted  by  the  words  and  character  of 
Jesus.  They  did  not  wish  to  leave  him  :  they  wished  to  hear 
all  he  had  to  say ;  and  so  they  went  with  him,  though  they 
knew  not  that  in  thus  going  they  were  to  become  the  great 
apostles  and  leaders  of  the  human  race. 

But  there  is  still  another  kind  of  giving  which  it  is  hard 
to  do  cheerfully ;  and  that  is  the  giving  up  of  those  we  love, 
when  we  are  invited  to  let  them  go  to  be  with  God  and  his 
angels  iu  a  higher  world. 

Yet  love  can  conquer  this  reluctance  too,  —  love  which 
sets  aside  private  needs,  dependence,  necessity,  for  the  good 
of  the  one  loved.  Affection,  purified  in  the  fire  of  religion, 
can  understand  Christ  when  he  says,  "If  ye  loved  me,  ye 
would  rejoice,  because  I  go  to  my  Father ;  for  my  Father  is 
greater  than  I." 

This  joy  comes  in  the  midst  of  grief  to  all  who  have  any 
pure  love  for  their  friends,  —  grief  with  joy  inside  of  it,  tears 
with  deeper  smiles,  like  the  sun  breaking  through  the  driving 
rain.  It  is  joy  that  they  are  safe  ;  that  their  life  cannot  cease 
to  be  bright ;  that  they  are  above  desire  and  fear ;  that  they 
have  outsoared  the  shadow  of  our  night ;  that  they  are  free 
from  the  contagion  of  the  world's  slow  stain  ;  that  they  have 
arisen  with  Jesus,  and  are  with  his  Father  and  our  Father. 
So  that  it  is  not  strange  or  morbid  to  have  with  our  natural 
grief  also  a  profound  joy  when  those  we  love  best  ascend  by 
God's  invitation  to  him.  Suppose  you  should  meet  a  friend, 
and,  seeing  him  very  happy,  should  ask  the  reason,  and  he 
should  say,  "  It  is  because  my  son  is  to  leave  me,  to  go 
where     I    shall    not    see    him    for    the    next    three    years." 


THE   CHEERFUL   GIVER.  169 

"  Well,"  you  would  say,  "  that  is  strange,  and  a  little  un- 
natural, I  think,  and  not  quite  parental,  that  you  should  be 
so  glad  to  lose  your  son."  "  Ah  !  but  understand  me,"  he 
replies.  "  I  am  not  glad  to  lose  my  son :  but  I  have  been 
wishing  and  making  exertions  to  -get  him  a  situation  which 
is  just  what  he  desires  and  needs  ;  which  is  exactly  suited  to 
him  ;  which  will  give  him  present  comfort,  together  with 
education,  and  opportunity  of  progress.  It  is  the  very  thing 
of  all  things  for  him  ;  and  I  have  just  heard  that  it  is  given 
to  him.  This  is  what  I  am  glad  of."  "  Ah  !  "  say  you  : 
"  that  is  not  so  unnatural,  then,  after  all." 

Gladly,  cheerfully,  the  young  men  of  our  land  have  given 
themselves  to  their  country  in  its  hour  of  peril.  Gladly, 
earnestly,  they  have  gone  out  to  live  or  to  die,  as  God  might 
determine.  Gladly,  yet  with  tears,  have  their  mothers,  sis- 
ters, wives,  friends,  bidden  them  farewell,  not  wishing  to 
hold  them  back  from  the  heroic  and  noble  work ;  and  so 
they  go,  and  fall,  and  rise,  —  rise  into  a  higher  life  with 
God,  rise  into  the  great  historic  figures  of  our  history. 
They  stand  forever- as  illustrious  teachers  of  the  old  clas- 
sic truth,  that  it  is  sweet  and  honorable  to  die  for  one's 
country,  —  sweet  and  honorable  to  die  for  any  .truly  great 
cause.  They  shall  teach  coming  generations,  if  perchance 
we  tend  once  more  in  times  of  peace  and  prosperity  to  forget 
it,  that  there  is  in  us  all  something  higher  than  self-love, 
something  stronger  than  the  love  of  ease  ;  that  God  has 
made  us  all  with  power  to  go  joyfully  to  suffer  in  a  good 
cause  ;  and  that,  in  all  such  suffering,  there  is  more  joy  than 
pain. 

But  it  is  not  necessary  to  be  a  soldier  in  order  to  give  up 
our  life  cheerfully  to  God,  truth,  and  humanity.  I  stood 
this  week  by  the  remains  of  a  young  woman,  who  was  a 
cheerful  giver  of  all  she  had  to  the  cause  of  God  and  man. 
She  was  a  teacher  for  many  years  in  a  primary  school  in 
this  city  ;  and  she  did  not  teach,  as  many  do,  "  grudgingly 


170  THE   CHEERFUL   GIVER. 

and  of  necessity,"  but  put  her  whole  heart  into  this  work, 
and  so  ennobled  it  to  a  sacred  mission.  The  poor  little  Irish 
children  were,  to  her,  Christ's  little  ones,  and  each  of  them 
was  precious  to  her ;  so  that,  systematizing  her  life,  she  had 
time  every  day  after  school .  to  visit  them  in  order  at  their 
homes,  taking  the  last  first,  and  sweetly  emphasizing  with 
special  tenderness  those  whose  homes  were  most  forlorn 
and  whose  surroundings  least  favorable.  If  they  needed 
clothes  or  shoes,  she  always  provided  them,  —  going  to  gen- 
erous people,  and  telling  each  case :  and,  as  she  knew  all 
about  it,  she  never  failed  ;  or,  if  she  failed,  she  took  it  from 
her  own  small  salary,  with  which  she  had  other  things  to  do 
besides  taking  care  of  herself.  So  she  was  a  providence  to 
so  many  little  children,  who  never  knew  any  Christian  love 
till  they  knew  hers  ;  and  so  she  made  her  school-house  a 
divine  temple,  and  her  work  a  holy  mission  ;  and  when  she 
went  last  week  into  the  world,  "  so  far,  so  near,"  her  works 
preceded,  attended,  and  followed  her,  because  she  was  a 
cheerful  giver. 

God  has  never  left  himself  without  a  witness  anywhere 
in  the  world.  I  was  reading  the  other  day  an  account  of  a 
Roman  funeral.  When  the  head  of  one  of  the  Roman  fam- 
ilies died,  all  his  ancestors,  whose  statues  stood  in  his  hall, 
represented  by  their  descendants,  went  with  him  to  the  tomb. 
But  first  the  procession  went  to  the  forum  ;  and  then  the 
representatives  of  all  his  great  ancestors,  each  in  his  appro- 
priate dress,  with  consular  robes,  or  senatorial  toga,  as  worn 
in  life,  seated  themselves  by  the  rostra,  in  the  curule-chairs, 
while  the  nearest  descendant  recounted  the  deeds  of  the  de- 
parted warrior  or  statesman.  Was  it  not  some  word  of  God 
in  the  hearts  of  those  old  Romans  which  taught  them  thus 
to  make  life  triumphant  over  death,  and  to  carry  the  body  to 
the  tomb,  not  talking  of  what  was  lost,  but  of  what  was  won 
and  saved?  God  sends  his  consolations  and  his  intuitions  of 
truth  into  every  race  ;  and  the  human  hearts  of  his  children 


THE   CHEERFUL   GIVER.  171 

cry  aloud  to  him  for  comfort  in  their  sorrow,  from  all  coun- 
tries and  lands,  and  are  fed. 

The  rules  of  Christian  bounty  are  therefore  simple.  First, 
it  should  be  generous.  Jesus  says,  "  Give,  hoping  for  noth- 
ing again."  Secondly,  it  should  be  modest.  Jesus  says, 
"  When  thou  doest  alms,  let  not  thy  left  hand  know  what 
thy  right  hand  doeth."  Thirdly,  it  should  be  spontaneous, 
not  waiting  to  be  sought  for,  or  following  routine.  Many 
persons  give  only  where  they  are  expected  to  give  ;  not  tak- 
ing the  initiative,  but  always  waiting  till  they  are  asked. 
But  true  bounty  is  like  the  man  in  the  gospel  who  went  out 
into  the  highway,  and  called  those  in  to  his  feast  who  ex- 
pected no  such  invitation,  and  were  no  doubt  much  surprised 
at  it.  And,  fourthly,  all  true  bounty  proceeds  from  love  to 
God  and  man.  For,  "  though  I  bestow  all  my  goods  to  feed 
the  poor,  and  have  not  love,  it  profiteth  me  nothing."  Such 
are  the  rules  of  Christian  bounty.  And  all  such  bounty 
resembles  the  divine  bounty  ;  for  God  gives  cheerfully  and 
generously.  He  gives,  hoping  for  nothing  again  ;  for  he 
gives  to  the  bad  man,  who  makes  no  return,  as  well  as  to 
the  good.  His  sun  shines  on  the  unthankful  as  well  as 
upon  the  grateful.  God  gives  cheerfully.  All  nature  is  full 
of  cheer.  The  gifts  of  God  fall  freely  and  willingly  from 
the  skies.  He  also  gives  a  thousand  things  secretly,  as  well 
as  openly,  not  letting  his  left  hand  know  what  his  right  hand 
doeth.  He  hides  his  mercies,  so  that  we  do  not  know  them 
till  long  after.  He  conceals  his  blessings  under  the  form  of 
evils.  Again  :  the  gifts  of  God  are  spontaneous.  He  gives 
without  waiting  to  be  asked.  He  not  only  answers  our 
prayer,  but  teaches  us  how  to  pray.  And  finally,  he  gives 
all  from  love :  for  love  is  his  essence  ;  and  the  explanation 
of  all  existence,  of  all  history,  of  all  life,  is  to  be  found  in 
the  necessary  activity  of  infinite  love.  If  we  would  be  the 
children  of  our  Father  in  heaven,  let  us  give  as  he  does. 
Let  us  give  like  him  in  these  particulars,  and  we  shall  give 


172  THE    CHEERFUL   GIVER. 

well,  whether  we  give  our  means, 'ourselves,  or  that  which 
is  most  dear  to  us.  Give  cheerfully,  not  grudgingly ;  give 
modestly,  not  ostentatiously  ;  give  generously,  not  selfishly  ; 
give  spontaneously,  and  not  as  of  necessity  ;  and  in  all  these 
give  lovingly. 

Jesus  was  a  man  of  sorrows.  But  the  greatest  artists,  in 
painting  his  features,  have  recognized  that  beneath  all  sor- 
row was  a  perfect  peace.  The  mediaeval  and  monkish  artists 
gave  him  an  expression  of  dejection,  and  of  passive  submis- 
sion to  inevitable  ill ;  but  the  greater  painters  who  succeeded 
joined  in  the  Master's  face  the  perfect  harmony  of  sorrow 
and  joy,  blended  and  made  at  one  in  a  divine  peace.  Sor- 
row is  there  :  for  he  had  always  before  him  human  woe  and 
sin  ;  the  imperfect  present ;  the  degraded  and  unworthy  con- 
dition of  man  ;  the  soul  enchained,  and  held  down  from  its 
great  ideal.  But  a  deeper  joy  is  also  there,  — joy  in  the 
sense  that  God  was  with  and  in  every  struggling  soul,  every 
aspiration  for  good,  every  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteous- 
ness. These  artists  are  right ;  for  Jesus  began  his  first 
sermon,  not  by  saying,  "  Cursed  are  the  heretics,"  but  by 
saying,  "  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  spirit ; "  not  by  saying, 
*'  Cursed  are  the  sinners,"  but  "  Blessed  are  those  who 
mourn  over  their  sin."  They  are  blessed  while  they  mourn. 
Like  their  Master,  they  are  happier  in  their  grief  than  oth- 
ers in  their  gladness. 

"  That  high  suffering  which  we  dread 
A  higher  joy  discloses  : 
Men  saw  the  thorns  on  Jesus'  brow ; 
But  angels  saw  the  roses." 

"  God  loves  a  cheerful  giver."  Jesus  was  his  well-beloved 
Son,  giving  himself  cheerfully  for  man,  giving  his  life  a 
ransom  for  many.  God  loves  us  when  we  follow  Jesus,  — 
when  we  are  cheerful  in  our  submission  ;    cheerful  in  our 


THE   CHEERFUL  GIVER.  173 

sacrifice ;  cheerful  in  our  trial ;  cheerful  in  our  loneliness, 
our  bereavement,  our  sorrow  ;  cheerful  even  in  our  struggle 
with  sin,  —  knowing  that  we  shall  come  off  conquerors,  and 
more  than  conquerors,  through  him  who  loved  us ;  and  that 
nothing  can  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God. 


XVII. 

THE  GRACE  OF  GOD. 

Eph.  ii.  8  :  ''By  grace  ye  ake  saved,  through  faith;  and  that 
NOT  OF  yourselves  :  IT  IS  the  gift  of  God." 

EVERYTHING  which  we  have  in  this  world  —  all  our 
joy,  our  culture,  our  powers  of  body  and  mind,  our 
outward  and  inward  wealth  —  comes  to  us  in  one  of  two 
ways  :  it  comes  with  or  without  our  own  efforts  ;  it  comes 
as  a  consequence  of  what  we  do,  or  without  any  reference  to 
what  we  do  ;  it  comes  as  retribution,  in  the  form  of  reward 
and  punishment ;  or  it  comes  as  free  gift  or  grace.  When 
good  comes  to  us  in  consequence  of  what  we  have  done,  we 
call  it  reward ;  when  evil  comes  in  consequence  of  what  we 
have  done,  we  call  it  punishment ;  when  good  comes,  not  in 
consequence  of  anything  we  have  done,  we  call  it  grace,  a 
free  gift,  or  mercy ;  when  evil  comes,  not  in  consequence  of 
what  we  have  done,  we  do  not  call  it  punishment,  but  trial, 
discipline,  education. 

These  are  the  two  sides  of  life  ;  these  are  the  two  laws 
which  govern  us  all.  Gift  and  payment,  —  these  are  the 
positive  and  negative  poles  of  human  life. 

Now,  moralists  lay  the  greatest  stress  on  the  law  of  retri- 
bution, while  religious  people  lay  the  greatest  stress  on  the 
law  of  grace.  When  the  question  is  raised,  "  How  is  one  to 
be  saved?"  moralists  reply,  "By  works,  by  doing  one's 
duty,  by  trying  to  obey  God,  by  being  faithful  in  all  rela- 
tions   of  life."      Religious    people,    on    the    contrary,  —  all 

(174) 


THE   GRACE   OF   GOD.  175 

Orthodox  theologians  especially,  —  say,  "Not  at  all.  We 
are  not  saved  by  works,  but  by  grace,  through  faith.  It  is 
the  pure  work  of  God,  no  work  of  ours,  which  saves  us,  if 
we  are  saved." 

Now,  I  shall  try  to  show  that  the  theologians  are  nearer 
right  than  the  moralists  on  this  point.  Herein,  I  shall,  no 
doubt,  depart  from  the  traditions  of  the  Unitarians ;  for 
Unitarians  have,  on  this  subject,  usually  sided  with  the 
moralists,  and  not  with  the  theologians.  I  shall,  however, 
also  depart  in  this  discussion  somewhat  from  the  theologians, 
because  I  shall  translate  the  whole  matter  out  of  the  lan- 
guage of  theology  into  that  of  common  life  and  daily  experi- 
ence. Instead  of  saying,  "  By  grace  we  are  saved,  through 
faith  ;  and  that  not  of  ourselves :  it  is  the  gift  of  God,"  I 
would  put  it  in  this  form,  as  being  more  intelligible  :  — 

"  Every  one,  in  his  heart,  desires  to  be  better  than  he  is. 
Every  one  would  like  to  be,  not  a  bad,  but  a  good  man.  No 
one  desires  to  be  mean,  false,  cowardly ;  but  each  wishes  to 
be  noble,  generous,  pure,  true,  loving,  and  beloved.  We  all 
would  like  to  lead  a  higher,  nobler,  better  life  than  we  do. 
Now,  this  better  life  is  what  we  mean  by  being  saved.  It  is 
going  up,  not  down ;  towards  God,  not  towards  Satan ; 
towards  the  heaven  which  is  the  home  of  all  angelic,  loving 
souls,  not  to  the  hell  which  is  the  home  of  all  mean,  selfish, 
cruel,  hateful,  and  demoniacal  beings." 

Now,  the  question  is,  "  How  are  we  to  go  upward  ?  how 
are  we  to  grow  better  ?  how  are  we,  in  short,  to  be  saved  ?  " 

In  passing  down  the  street  a  day  or  two  since,  I  saw  a 
placard  announcing  a  convention  of  "  all  persons  who  believe 
in  the  speedy  personal  coming  of  Christ ;  and  who  also  be- 
lieve in  the  immortality  of  the  righteous,  and  destruction  of 
the  wicked,"  As  I  walked  on,  I  said  to  myself,  But  who 
are  the  righteous,  and  who  are  the  wicked? 

I  suppose  the  righteous  are  those  who  do  right,  and  the 
wicked  those  who   do  wrong.     But  who  will   claim  to  be 


176  THE   GRACE   OF  GOD. 

righteous  in  this  sense?  How  much  better  is  one  man  than 
another?  The  differences  between  good  men  and  bad  men 
are,  no  doubt,  very  important  as  regards  our  relations  to 
each  other  here.  A  man  who  steals  and  lies  and  misbehaves 
himself  is  a  very  inconvenient  neighbor,  a  very  uncomforta- 
ble companion  ;  but  when  we  come  to  talk  of  guilt  and  of 
merit  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  in  view  of  eternal  judgment, 
how  insignificant  the  differences  between  men  appear  !  Those 
who  believe  in  the  final  destruction  of  the  wicked  must  have 
little  hope  for  themselves  or  any  one  else :  for  who  is  not 
Avicked?  who  can  claim  to  be  good?  who  can  pretend  to 
have  led  a  perfectly  pure,  true,  generous  life  ?  who  has  been 
good  for  a  year  at  a  time,  a  month,  a  day?  Good  heavens  ! 
who  can  say  that  he  has  been,  even  for  an  hour,  good,  in 
any  great  and  noble  sense  of  the  word  ? 

We  may  judge,  then,  that  we  are  not  likely  to  be  saved 
by  our  works.  If  we  go  up  towards  heaven,  escape  from 
evil,  and  become  pure,  true,  fit  companions  for  angels,  and 
fit  to  be  near  God,  we  shall  not  have  made  ourselves  so.  I 
think  we  sliall  have  to  be  made  so  by  God. 

By  this  is  not  meant  that  we  have  nothing  to  do  ourselves 
in  order  to  be  saved.  I  believe  that  luorh  is  an  important 
element  of  salvation  itself.  Only  I  do  not  think  that  we 
work  in  order  to  make  God  love  us ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  it 
is  his  love  that  makes  us  work.  It  is  the  Divine  Grace  — 
that  is,  the  love  and  mercy  of  our  Father  in  heaven  —  which 
makes  us  faithful  and  obedient,  inspires  us  with  ardor,  and 
helps  us  to  serve  him.  The  grace  of  God,  which  brings 
salvation,  has  appeared  to  men  ;  teaching  us,  that,  denying 
ungodliness  and  worldly  lusts,  we  should  live  soberly,  right- 
eously, and  godly  in  this  world.  That  is,  our  temperance, 
our  self-control,  is  a  pure  gift  of  God  ;  our  righteousness,  or 
just  behavior  to  men,  is  a  pure  gift  of  God  ;  and  our  religion 
is  a  pure  gift.  All  our  work  has  a  gift  at  the  root  of  it. 
God  sows  his  love  in  our  heart  as  a  seed,  out  of  which, 
after  a  while,  our  work  grows. 


THE   GRACE   OF   GOD.  177 

Nearly  everything  which  comes  to  us  in  this  world  comes 
by  grace.  The  doctrine  of  salvation  by  God's  love  \Vas  first 
uttered  by  Jesus,  when  he  said,  *'  Be  the  children  of  your 
Father  in  heaven  ;  for  his  sun  shines  on  the  evil  and  the 
good,  and  he  sends  his  rain  on  the  just  and  unjust."  He 
uttered  it  again  in  the  parable  of  the  laborer  in  the  vineyard, 
who  wrought  one  hour,  but  whom  God  made  equal  with 
those  "  who  had  borne  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day." 

There  was  a  book  written  by  Dr.  Combe,  called  the 
"  Constitution  of  Man,"  —  a  very  popular  work,  —  the  im- 
mense success  of  which  is  due  to  the  fact,  that  it  sets  forth 
in  the  fullest  form  the  opposite  doctrine  of  works.  "  Salva- 
tion by  works"  is  the  doctrine  of  that  excellent  book.  "As 
a  man  sows,  so  shall  he  reap."  He  who  has  earned  five 
talents  shall  be  over  five  cities  ;  he  who  has  earned  two 
talents,  over  two  cities  ;  he  who  has  earned  one,  over  one 
city :  *  strict  justice,  impartial  retribution,  unerring  law,  a 
certain  retaliation.  This  is  all  perfectly  true.  It  is  also 
taught  by  Jesus ;  it  was  taught  by  Moses  ;  it  is  taught  by 
Nature.  He  who  does  not  work  shall  not  eat ;  he  who  puts 
his  finger  in  the  fire  shall  be  burned.  Jesus  did  not  come 
to  destroy  these  laws,  but  to  fulfil  them. 

In  the  other  world,  as  in  this  world,  these  laws  apply. 
There,  as  here,  there  will  be  a  perfect  retribution.  There 
will  be  rewards  and  punishments  in  the  other  life,  just  as 
there  are  here.  Those  who  have  done  much  shall  stand 
high ;  those  who  have  been  faithful  in  few  things  shall  be 
rulers  over  many  things.  Jesus  does  not  set  aside  any  of 
these  laws.  Combe's  book  on  the  Constitution  of  Man  is 
as  true  in  heaven  as  on  earth. 

But,  though  Christ  does  not  come  to  destroy  the  law  of 
recompense,  he  does  come  to  fulfil  it.  We  must  work  out 
our  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling ;  but  we  can  work  it 
out  because  God  works  in  us  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good 
pleasure.  That  is,  God  is  in  our  hearts,  just  as  he  is  in 
12 


178  THE   GRACE   OF   GOD. 

Nature  ;  his  sun  shines  in  the  hearts  of  bad  men,  as  in  the 
hearts  of  good  men,  to  make  daylight  and  warmth  come  in. 
He  does  not  wait  till  tliey  have  begun  to  be  good  :  he  works 
in  them  to  will.  He  does  not  leave  them  to  do  all  the 
work  by  themselves  :  he  works  in  them  to  do. 

What  a  terrible  task,  what  an  impossible  duty,  we  should 
have  to  perform,  if  we  had  to  work  out  our  salvation  from 
evil,  our  salvation  into  good,  all  by  ourselves  and  from  our- 
selves !  What  utter  discouragement  and  despair,  if  we  had 
not  these  promises  ! 

But  see  how  everywhere  the  law  of  grace  pours  out  its 
uueeasino:  blessin":s  within  and  around  the  law  of  works  ! 
God  pays  us  our  wages  with  strict  accuracy  every  evening ; 
but  he  gives  us  a  thousand  times  as  much  as  he  pays  us. 
So  I  have  seen  a  father  agreeing  with  his  little  son  to  pay 
him  so  many  cents  a  day  for  doing  such  and  such  little 
pieces  of  work.  Tiie  child's  mind  is  full  of  what  he  is  earn- 
ing ;  and  he  is  thus  encouraged  to  form  habits  of  diligence, 
punctuality,  self-denial,  and  perseverance :  but,  while  the 
father  pays  the  child  his  few  cents  a  day,  he  is  giving  the 
child  home,  clothing,  food,  school,  and  all  sorts  of  comforts 
and  blessings.  He  is  working  for  his  child's  present  and 
future  good  all  day  long.  So  it  is  with  us ;  we  are  such 
little  children.  God  pays  us  regularly,  with  reward  and 
punishment,  our  three  cents  a  day  ;  but  he  gives  us  all  the 
perfect  beauty  and  blessing,  which  is  new  every  morning  in 
the  divine  providence  of  this  world. 

Now  see  how  the  grace  of  God,  which  brings  salvation, 
has  appeared  to  us  in  Nature  and  Providence,  and  how  it 
has  taught  us  to  deny  ungodliness  and  worldly  lusts,  and  to 
live  soberly,  righteously,  and  godly  in  this  world. 

Tart  of  the  goodness  there  is  in  this  world  comes  natu- 
rally. It  is  the  organization  of  soul  and  body.  The  sense 
of  right  and  wrong,  the  delicacy  of  conscience,  the  feeling 
of  moral  obligation,  which  is  in  us,  we  did  not  make  our- 


THE   GRACE   OP   GOD.  179 

selves.  God  gives  this  to  us  :  he  gives  it  new  all  the  time. 
It  is  a  light  from  him,  shining  into  our  hearts.  It  is  his 
Holy  Spirit  dwelling  in  us,  warning,  advising,  restraining, 
impelling  us.  It  is  in  every  human  soul.  His  sun  shines 
on  the  evil  and  on  the  good.  This  holy  monitor,  this  care- 
ful inspector,  this  sacred,  solemn  voice,  is  from  grace,  from 
love.  It  is  the  Father's  arm,  held  round  every  child  to  keep 
him  safe  from  evil. 

Some  have  more  of  this,  some  less.  Some  persons  seem 
to  have  a  great  instinct  of  conscience,  a  good  genius  for  vir- 
tue. But  they  do  not  deserve  the  credit  of  it.  They  do  not 
make  themselves  so  :  God  makes  them  so.  Others  have 
less.  That  is  no  fault  of  theirs.  So  in  an  army,  on  a  field- 
day,  some  stand  nearer  to  the  commander,  and  hear  his 
voice  more  plainly  ;  and  others  far  off,  where  they  have  to 
listen  sharply  to  hear  the  command.  It  is  not  a  merit  to  be 
placed  near,  nor  a  fault  to  be  placed  far  away :  but  it  is  a 
fault  if  we  do  not  try  hard  to  hear  the  command ;  a  fault  if 
we  do  not  listen. 

So  the  grace  of  God  puts  into  our  organization  sympathy, 
good-nature,  kindliness ;  giving  more  to  some,  and  less  to 
others,  but  giving  to  all  their  share.  Some  are,  by  their 
very  nature,  sweet  and  gentle,  kind  and  self-forgetting,  and 
ready  to  sympathize.  They  cannot  help  being  sweet  and 
sunny.  It  is  like  a  perpetual  Sunday  when  they  are  near 
us.     But  that  is  no  merit  of  theirs  :  it  is  the  gift  of  God. 

And  so  some  persons  have,  by  nature,  a  certain  sagacity, 
and  a  justness  of  perception,  which  keep  them  from  going 
wrong.  Good  sense  is  an  important  element  in  good  be- 
havior. And  some  persons  are  full  of  hope,  and  see  the 
great  things  which  may  be  done  ;  and  so  inspire  others  to 
labor,  and  labor  themselves,  in  the  light  of  a  noble  expecta- 
tion. But  that  is  of  grace.  God  made  them  so  :  they  did 
not  make  themselves  so. 

We  have  no  right  to  blame  people  for  not  being  born  with 


180  THE   GRACE   OF  GOD. 

all  these  delicate  and  charming  qualities.  Thank  God  for 
those  who  have  them,  and  be  willing  to  rejoice  in  their  light ; 
but  do  not  blame  those  to  whom  God  has  not  given  the  great 
torches  and  majestic  blazing  candelabra,  but  only  penny  can- 
dles, in  this  illumination  of  Nature. 

The  religious  instinct  in  man  is  also,  to  a  great  extent, 
organic.  What  most  men  call  religion,  —  the  tendency  to 
adore,  the  joy  of  piety,  the  feeling  which  carries  one  to 
worship,  the  satisfaction  in  religious  ceremonies  and  forms, 
in  liturgies  and  sacred  occasions,  —  this  is  a  constitutional 
thing.  Some  races  have  more,  some  less.  The  ancient 
Egyptians  had  the  most  of  any  races  ever  yet  known. 
They  lived  to  worship.  Their  national  life  was  in  wor- 
ship. Their  political  constitution  was  a  hierarchy.  It  was 
a  government  of  priests.  So  some  persons  now  are  made 
very  prone  to  worship  :  others  have  little  of  this  tendency. 
It  is  a  deep  and  beautiful  element  in  the  soul ;  but  it  is  no 
merit  to  have  it,  no  sin  to  be  without  it. 

Part  of  our  human  goodness  comes  from  these  natural 
sources  ;  but  another  part  comes  from  education,  from  out- 
ward influence.     This  also  is  of  grace,  not  of  works. 

Look  back  on  your  life,  and  see  what  blessed  influences 
have  come  to  you  to  form  your  character,  to  ennoble  your 
aims,  to  inspire  you  with  a  true  spirit,  —  from  the  home  of 
your  childhood,  from  your  father  and  mother,  and  the  dear 
friends  of  your  youth,  from  tlie  revered  and  holy  men  and 
women  whose  mature  virtues  rose  around  you,  like  solid 
walls  of  marble,  to  keep  out  evil  influence.  You  heard,  in 
your  childhood,  good  and  just  sentiments.  It  was  taken  for 
granted,  in  all  the  conversation,  that  men  were  to  be  true 
aud  pure,  upright  and  firm  ;  that  life  was  a  trust,  not  given 
for  selfish  ends,  but  to  be  used  for  good.  It  was  not  the 
direct  moral  teaching  you  heard  at  home  which  did  you  the 
most  good,  but  the  indirect,  spontaneous,  automatic  teaching, 
—  that  whicli  came  from  the  character  of  others,  not  from 


THE   GRACE   OF  GOD.  181 

their  thoughts.  We,  my  dear  friends,  have  been  born  in  a 
community  saturated  by  the  teachings  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. The  conscience  of  society  has  been  educated  by  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount.  In  every  New  England  village,  when 
the  Sunday  bells  send  their  mellow  invitations  to  praise  and 
prayer  over  the  sleeping  hills  and  valleys,  on  each  returning 
day  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  little  children  are  taken  into  his 
arms,  and  pressed  to  his  loving  heart.  The  sun  of  Chris- 
tianity shines  on  the  evil  and  the  good.  Not  a  reckless  boy, 
the  torment  of  his  home  ;  not  a  hard,  grasping,  selfish,  sharp- 
featured  country  trader  or  lawyer,  —  but  has,  in  the  depth 
of  his  soul,  some  sweet  and  holy  influence  which  came  to  him 
as  a  divine  gift  when  he  was  a  little  child ;  and  there  it  is 
down  in  the  depth  of  his  heart  to-day. 

Who  is  there  that  has  not  loved,  and  has  not  been  loved? 
What  did  we  do  to  merit  that  tender  love  of  parent  and 
child,  of  grandfather  and  grandmother,  of  husband  and  wife, 
—  that  generous,  self- forgetting  devotion  of  friend,  of  brother, 
and  sister?  What  did  we  ever  do  to  be  so  loved?  Who 
ever  deserved  half  the  love  he  has  received  ?  Of  the  good  in 
our  hearts,  how  large  a  part  has  flowed  from  this  grace  of 
God,  which  made  others  come  to  us  with  their  noble,  frank, 
true-hearted  aflTection  !  All  love  is  of  grace.  It  is  never 
deserved.  Nobody  ever  deserved  to  be  loved ;  but  being 
loved  makes  us  more  deserving  than  anything  else  can. 

"Love  is  too  young  to  know  what  conscience  is ; 
But  who  knows  not  conscience  is  born  of  love?  " 

Then  more  of  our  goodness  than  we  think  comes  from  the 
divine  presence  of  God  in  Nature.  The  calm  succession  of 
day  and  night,  of  spring  and  summer,  teaches  us  the  dignity 
of  order  and  law.  The  serene  beauty  of  the  sky  and  the 
fields  ;  the  wide-spread  joy  coming  from  the  clouds,  the  for- 
est, the  grassy  meadows,  the  flowing  streams,  —  take  us  out 
of  our  own  little  projects  and  plans,  and  teach  us  that  what 


182  THE  GRACE   OF  GOD. 

God  has  made  common  to  all  men  is  the  best  thing  he  ha? 
given  us.  Nature,  enlarging  our  conceptions,  unites  us  with 
our  fellow-men,  and  teaches  us  humanity.  And  who  ever 
did  anything  to  earn  this?  God  gives  all  this  lavish  beauty 
and  abundant  glory  to  every  creature  who  has  eyes  to  see  it 
and  a  heart  to  feel  it. 

So,  too,  the  grace  of  God  has  given  us  Jesus  Christ.  We, 
who  have  heard,  learned,  and  been  taught  of  him,  did  noth- 
ing ourselves  to  obtain  that  privilege.  It  is  God's  free  love 
wliich  caused  us  to  be  born  in  this  Christendom,  not  in 
Cliiua;  in  Protestantism,  not  in  Italy  or  Spain;  and  under 
the  most  liberal  form  of  Protestantism,  where  God  is  seen  as 
a  Father,  loving  all  his  children,  and  not  as  a  stern  judge  or 
an  awful  angry  king. 

Thus  we  see  how  the  grace  of  God  has  been  the  source  of 
nearly  all  the  good  there  is  in  us.  Some  of  it  has  come  to 
us  in  our  original  organization,  some  has  been  given  us 
through  education,  some  through  Christianity.  And  now 
the  gospel  says  to  us,  that  all  this  is  only  the  preparation  for 
a  deeper  and  fuller  life  of  love  which  God  means  to  give  to 
all  of  us  on  the  condition  of  faith.  That  is,  trust  him.  Do 
not  doubt  his  nearness,  his  influence,  his  good-will.  Believe 
that,  what  he  has  begun,  he  means  to  carry  on  and  finish. 
Trust  in  your  Father,  and  each  day  accept,  as  from  him,  the 
gift  of  life,  the  inflowing  light  of  conscience  and  of  reason  ; 
the  inflowing  love  which  draws  out  your  heart  to  those 
around  you,  the  inflowing  aspiration  which  longs  for  some 
better  and  higher  goodness.  It  is  always  ready  to  come 
into  your  soul.  Only  open  your  heart  to  receive  this  new 
life,  each  day,  in  faith.  This  faith  in  God  and  ourselves 
will  make  us  do  more,  make  us  more  faithful,  conscientious, 
obedient.  We  shall  work  more  when  we  do  not  work  to 
gain  a  reward  or  to  escape  a  punishment,  but  because  God 
is  our  Father,  and  we  know  it,  and  so  feel  perfectly  safe. 

This  is  tlic  true  doctrine  of  salvation  by  grace.     We  are 


THE   GRACE   OP   GOD.'  183 

safe  because  God  is  our  Father.  And  the  true  doctrine  of 
work  is,  that  we  will  work,  because,  since  God  is  on  our 
side,  it  is  worth  while  to  work  :  our  work  is  sure  to  be 
effectual,  and  come  to  something. 

The  Christian  Church  rests  entirely  on  this  doctrine.  Re- 
ward and  punishment  separate  men  :  the  doctrine  of  God  as 
a  judge  puts  each  man  alone  with  his  conscience.  When 
men  are  striving  for  a  prize,  each  man  strives  alone  for 
himself;  but,  as  soon  as  God  is  seen  as  a  Father,  the  Church 
becomes  a  family.  Then  it  is  not  the  good  alone  who  belong 
to  the  family,  but  all  men,  because  all  are  God's  children. 

The  only  condition  of  membership  in  the  true  Church  is  to 
believe  that  God  is  your  Father  ;  then  you  at  once  see  that 
all  who  believe  it  with  you  are  your  brothers,  and  know  it. 
You  look  on  them  as  brothers,  not  because  of  any  goodness 
in  them  ;  they  look  on  you  as  their  brother,  not  because  of 
any  goodness  in  you,  but  because  you  are  God's  child  just  as 
much  as  they  are. 

The  Church  is  founded  on  this  doctrine.  We  believe  that 
God  is  our  Father,  not  our  Judge  or  King.  We  believe  that 
we  are  to  be  saved  by  his  grace,  not  by  our  own  peculiar  or 
special  goodness.  Therefore  we  recognize  all  as  brothers 
who  recognize  God  as  their  Father.  Christ  is  our  Master, 
because  he  teaches  us  this.  We  wish  to  learn  it  more  fully  : 
therefore  we  come  together.  We  invite  all  to  join  us,  and 
become  members  of  the  Church,  if  they  believe  God  to  be 
their  Father ;  if  they  can  trust  in  him  as  able  and  willing  to 
save  their  souls.  If  they  feel  safe  because  they  see  God  as 
a  Father,  they  can  take  each  other  as  brethren  and  sisters, 
and  try  to  work  out  this  salvation  together. 

Therefore,  my  friends,  in  conclusion  of  our  meditations, 
let  me  give  you,  as  the  sum  and  substance  of  the  Christian 
doctrine  of  grace,  these  statements  :  — 

1.  God's  free,  fatherly  love  has  made  all  men  to  become 
his  spiritual  children.     His  grace  has  predestined  us,  before 


181  THE   GRACE   OF   GOD. 

the  foundation  of  the  world,  to  become  wholly  his,  free  from 
sin,  and  full  of  truth  and  holiness. 

2.  We  become  his  children  as  soon  as  we  see  that  he  is 
our  Father ;  and  our  salvation  is  this,  —  we  are  safe  as  long 
as  we  believe  that  we  are  God's  children,  because  then  we 
shall  always  go  to  him  in  any  temptation  and  danger.  We 
are  therefore  saved  through  faith  by  grace. 

3.  We  work  out  this  salvation  by  obedience  ;  correcting 
all  our  faults,  learning  to  do  all  we  ought,  not  in  any  strength 
of  our  own,  but  by  means  of  the  inflowing  life  and  love  of 
God,  which  he  pours  into  our  hearts  so  long  as  they  are  open 
to  him. 

This  is  the  gospel.  It  is  not  the  law  of  Moses.  It  is  not 
the  law  of  morality.  It  is  not  the  law  of  prudence.  But  it 
fulfils  all  these  laws  by  making  us  do,  from  gratitude,  love, 
hope,  and  faith,  what  these  laws  make  us  do  from  fear,  from 
conscience,  from  good  sense,  and  a  refined,  virtuous  pru- 
dence ;  and  so  we  may  say  always  as  Paul  said,  "  By  the 
grace  of  God,  I  am  what  I  am.'* 


xvni. 

"NO  MAN  CARED  FOR  MY  SOUL." 
Ps.  cxlii.  4:  "No  man  cared  for  my  soul." 

WHAT  an  amount  of  pathos  is  contained  in  this  expres- 
sion !  How  sad  that  any  human  being  should  ever 
have  occasion  to  utter  it !  As  long  as  any  Christianity  is 
left  in  the  world,  as  long  as  common  humanity  even  has  not 
wholly  deserted  it,  no  one,  we  should  think,  would  be  so 
utterly  forlorn,  so  wholly  desolate,  as  to  be  obliged  to  say, 
"  No  man  cared  for  my  soul." 

Several  winters  since,  a  fleet  of  fishing  schooners  came  to 
anchor  in  one  of  the  harbors  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  just  at 
evening,  in  anticipation  of  a  storm  which  seemed  to  be  com- 
ing on.  It  came  that  night,  one  of  the  most  terrible  tempests 
known  for  many  years  ;  and  the  wind  blew  so  directly  into 
the  harbor,  that  the  place  where  they  were  riding  at  anchor, 
usually  quite  safe,  soon  became  very  dangerous.  One  after 
another  of  the  vessels  was  blown  from  its  moorings,  across 
the  harbor,  upon  the  rocks,  close  to  the  shore,  but  where  it 
was  impossible  to  render  them  any  assistance.  The  inhabit- 
ants of  the  town,  crowded  together  on  the  bank,  saw  the 
faces  of  their  neighbors  and  friends  on  board,  saw  the  vessels 
go  to  pieces,  and  could  do  nothing  to  help  them.  Yet  what 
a  terrible  night  it  was  to  those  who  stood  in  safety  on  the 
land,  no  less  than  to  those  whose  lives  were  in  peril !  And 
when,  on  the  mori-ow,  they  carried  to  the  church  the  bodies 
of  twenty  or  thirty  persons,  many  of  them  strangers,  the 

(185) 


186  "  NO   MAN   CARED   FOR   MY  SOUL." 

town  was  filled  with  gloom,  and  sadness  rested  on  all  minds 
long  after.  If  it  had  been  otherwise,  they  would  have  been 
barbarians.  Common  humanity  dictated  this  sympathy  and 
interest  in  the  distress  and  peril  of  their  fellow-creatures. 

Why,  then,  should  there  not  be  equal  sympathy,  equal  in- 
terest, manifested  when  souls  are  in  danger,  —  when  souls 
are  shipwrecked  on  the  rocks  of  sin?  The  danger  is  as 
great,  the  consequence  more  terrible.  Even  if  we  could  do 
nothing  to  help  each  other's  souls,  we  might  show  an  in- 
terest in  their  condition,  and  grief  for  their  destruction. 

When  an  alarm  of  fire  is  given  in  the  night-time,  the 
whole  city  rouses  itself  from  its  slumbers,  and  multitudes 
hasten  to  preserve  the  property  of  a  fellow-citizen  from 
danger.  Why  should  not  church  bells  be  rung  when  his 
soul  is  on  fire  with  bad  passions  and  hot  desires,  and  Chris- 
tians run  to  snatch  him  like  a  brand  from  the  burning? 
How  often,  when  a  child  falls  into  the  water,  and  is  likely  to 
be  drowned,  does  the  impulse  of  humanity  cause  a  stranger 
to  leap  in,  and  risk  his  own  life  to  save  it !  If  the  child's 
soul  is  likely  to  be  drowned  beneath  the  accumulating  waves 
of  worldliness  and  worldly  prosperity,  ought  we  not  to  hasten 
as  suddenly  to  rescue  it?  I  read  the  other  day  of  a  child 
who  was  lost  in  the  woods,  and  how  the  whole  population 
turned  out,  and  spent  days  in  looking  for  him,  and  was  filled 
with  joy  when  he  was  found.  But  if  he  had  become  lost  to 
God  and  lost  to  himself,  if  he  had  wandered  from  his 
Father's  house,  if  he  had  become  entangled  and  bewildered 
in  the  mazes  of  sophistry  and  falsehood,  how  much  greater 
might  have  been  his  real  peril,  and  how  much  more  ought  a 
Christian  community  to  have  exerted  themselves  to  save 
him ! 

If  death  enters  a  home,  and  a  fair  child,  a  dear  wife,  an 
aged  and  honored  parent,  is  taken,  all  come  to  mourn  with 
the  mourner ;  all  come  with  softened  and  humbled  minds 
deeply  impressed  with  the  solemnity  of  the  presence  of  death. 


"  NO   MAN   CARED   FOR   MY   SOUL."  187 

But,  if  souls  die,  ought  we  not  to  show  a  deeper  sympathy? 
Ought  we  not  to  go  and  mourn  over  the  morally  dead? 
Ought  we  not  to  attend  the  funeral  of  innocence,  of  purity, 
of  peace?  Ought  we  not  to  console,  if  we  can,  those  who 
are  bereaved  of  the  living,  and  to  sympathize  with  the  ex- 
ceeding grief  of  the  mother  in  whose  child's  heart  affection 
has  died,  obedience  and  gratitude  lie  in  their  coffin?  Ought 
we  not  to  sympathize  with  the  father  whose  son  has  become 
polluted  with  sin,  stained  with  guilt? 

"  They  are  the  dead,  the  buried, 
They  who  do  still  survive ; 
In  sin  and  sense  interred, 
The  dead,  they  are  alive." 

That  the  sensual  and  the  worldly  should  not  care  for  the 
souls  of  their  brethren,  might  not  indeed  surprise  us ;  but 
that  Christians  should  not,  is  truly  wonderful.  If  we  feel  it 
a  duty  to  feed  the  hunger  and  clothe  the  nakedness  of  the 
body ;  to  visit  the  friend  who  suffers  from  physical  disease, 
and  constantly  inquire  after  his  bodily  health  ;  to  congratu- 
late him  on  his  outward  prosperity,  and  mourn  with  him 
over  his  temporal  losses,  —  much  more  should  we  endeavor 
to  feed  moral  hunger ;  to  clothe  moral  nakedness ;  to  visit 
those  whose  souls  are  diseased ;  to  congratulate  them  when 
they  have  performed  an  act  of  integrity,  of  self-denial ;  to 
weep  with  them  when  they  have  gained  the  whole  world  by 
means  of  a  baseness.  Is  it  not  strange  that  there  should  be 
any  in  Christian  lands  destitute  of  this  Christian  sympathy  ? 
any  who  can  truly  say,  "  No  man  cared  for  my  soul "  ? 

Yet,  if  we  may  anticipate  the  scenes  of  the  judgment,  how 
many  there  may  be  from  our  own  community  who  shall 
stand  up  there,  and  say  to  us  Christians,  "  None  of  you 
cared  for  my  soul "  ! 

One  will  perhaps  speak  thus  :  "I  was  the  child  of  igno- 
rance and  poverty.  I  grew  up  in  your  city  in  the  midst  of 
schools  ;  but  there  was  no  one  to  take  me  to  school.     I  was 


188  "  NO    MAN    CARED    FOR   MY    SOUL." 

in  the  midst  of  your  churches ;  but  none  of  you  ever  asked 
me  to  enter  their  doors.  I  was  in  a  home  of  profanity  and 
intemperance,  and  iniquity  ran  like  water  into  my  ears  and 
eyes  every  day ;  but  no  one  came  to  take  me  by  the  hand 
and  carry  me  to  Sunday  school,  or  to  teach  me  any  lessons  of 
virtue.  I  grew  up  lawless  in  will,  violent  in  passions,  coarse 
in  mind  ;  I  fell  into  petty  vice  ;  I  plunged  into  deeper  crime  ; 
I  was  sent  from  prison  to  prison  ;  but  no  man  once  asked 
what  moral  influences  I  was  under  while  there,  or  what  be- 
came of  me  when  I  left  it.     '  No  man  cared  for  my  soul.'  '* 

And  another  may  say,  "  I  was  the  daughter  of  pious  and 
good  parents  ;  but  I  was  obliged  to  leave  my  home  to  earn  a 
support.  I  lived  in  your  homes,  and  served  you ;  but  you 
never  cared  for  my  soul.  You  never  asked  what  was  the 
state  of  my  mind  or  heart.  Seeds  of  vanity  took  root  in 
them.  I  became  a  lover  of  pleasure.  I  went  down,  step  by 
step,  from  follies  to  faults,  from  faults  to  sins  ;  but  no  one 
ever  cared  to  ask  what  I  was  thinking  of,  what  were  my 
aims.  And  so  at  last  I  became  profligate  and  vicious,  and 
then  you  called  me  an  abandoned  woman  :  as  though  my 
being  abandoned  by  you  was  my  fault  more  than  yours." 

So,  too,  may  the  children  of  the  wealthy,  the  cultivated, 
and  the  refined,  stand  up  in  that  day,  and  say  to  their 
parents,  '^  Why  did  you  care  so  little  for  our  souls?  You 
cared  for  our  body  ;  you  devoted  yourselves  with  anxious 
thought  to  our  outward  health,  comfort,  ease ;  you  provided 
us  with  all  luxuries ;  you  shielded  us  from  all  temporal 
dangers ;  you  labored,  day  and  night,  to  build  up  a  fortune 
for  us  ;  you  sought  to  establish  us  in  good  connections  ;  you 
spared  no  expense  to  provide  us  with  accomplishments  :  but 
you  allowed  tiie  canker  of  vanity,  the  black  spot  of  selfish- 
ness, to  corrode  our  hearts.  You  taught  us  proprieties  be- 
fore man,  not  responsibilities  towards  God  ;  you  taught  us 
not  to  violate  the  laws  of  society,  not  to  disobey  the  com- 
mands of  fashion ;    to    submit  to  public  opinion :   but  you 


"  NO    MAN   CARED    FOR   MY   SOUL."  189 

never  taught  us  to  make  it  our  meat  and  drink  to  do  the  will 
of  God.  You  incited  us  to  no  heroic  devotion,  no  generous 
emulation  ;  you  awakened  within  us  no  spiritual  aspirations 
or  hopes.  Your  lives  were  consumed  with  anxiety  for  our 
outward  success  ;  but  you  never  cared  for  our  souls."  What 
terrible  words  will  these  be  for  parents  to  hear  from  their 
children  in  the  day  of  account ! 

And  how  many  on  that  day  will  complain  of  the  Christian 
Church,  whose  especial  duty  it  is  to  care  for  souls,  that  it 
neglected  that  duty !  The  slaves  will  rise  up,  and  say, 
"  You  sent  Bibles  to  the  heathen  in  foreign  lands  :  but  you 
did  not  teach  us,  at  your  own  doors,  to  read  the  gospel ;  you 
did  not  send  missionaries  to  the  heathen  in  your  own  land  ; 
no  man  among  you  told  us  of  the  sins  which  we  were  com- 
mitting ;  no  man  rebuked  our  masters  for  keeping  us  in  a 
condition  which  made  falsehood,  cruelty,  theft,  sensuality, 
almost  a  matter  of  necessity  No ;  but  you  justified  the 
system,  and  defended  it  out  of  the  word  of  God." 

And  will  not  the  slaveholder  have  cause  to  say,  "  You  did 
not  care  for  my  soul.  You  did  not  warn  me  of  the  unright- 
eousness of  my  conduct.  You  said  it  was  wrong  in  the 
abstract,  but  very  allowable  in  the  concrete  ;  wrong  as  an 
idea,  but  right  enough  as  a  fact.  You  were  watchmen,  put 
to  blow  the  trumpet,  and  to  say  to  the  wicked,  '  Thou  shalt 
surely  die  ; '  yet  you  acted,  instead,  the  part  of  the  serpent, 
and  said,  '  Ye  shall  not  surely  die,  but  shall  be"  as  gods.' 
My  blood  shall  be  required  at  your  hands "  ? 

Not  only  the  Church  generally,  but  the  ministry  in  par- 
ticular, will  have  to  hear  from  many  in  that  day  the  terrible 
words,  "  You  did  not  care  for  our  souls."  How  dreadful  a 
thing  will  it  be  to  the  unfaithful  minister  to  hear  from  those 
souls  whom  it  was  his  especial  business  to  watch  for,  as  one 
who  should  give  account,  "  You  did  not  care  for  our  spir- 
itual condition.  You  had  no  love  for  our  souls.  You  loved 
to  fill  your  church  full  of  hearers,  to  make  proselytes  to  your 


190 

party,  to  get  the  reputation  of  a  powerful  and  eloquent 
preacher,  to  acquire  influence  in  the  church  ;  but  you  did 
not  love  our  souls.  You  preached  against  scribes  and  Phari- 
sees among  the  Jews,  not  against  the  heart  of  Phariseeism 
among  ourselves  ;  you  preached  against  heretics  and  sinners 
in  other  places,  not  those  in  the  pews  before  you  ;  you  advo- 
cated reforms  after  they  became  popular :  but  you  fled,  be- 
cause you  were  a  hireling,  from 

*  The  grim  wolf,  who,  with  privy  paw, 
Daily  devours  apace,  and  nothing  said !  *  " 

But  there  will  be  other  voices  heard  on  that  day  uttering 
expressions  of  gratitude  to  those  who  have  cared  for  their 
souls ;  for  the  word  spoken  in  season  which  determined  the 
undecided  will  in  favor  of  right ;  for  the  wise  counsel,  the 
pure  precepts  of  love,  the  faithful  rebuke,  the  cordial  sym- 
pathy, the  kind  encouragement,  which  have  turned  many  to 
righteousness.  They  will  say,  "  We  were  without  hope,  and 
you  gave  it  to  us.  We  were  living  in  godlessness  and  sin, 
and  your  affectionate  warnings  opened  our  eyes  to  the  perils 
of  our  condition.  You  came  to  us  in  our  doubts  with  cheer- 
ful encouragement,  in  our  despair  to  lead  us  to  look  to  God. 
You  have  taught  us  the  true  value  of  life  ;  you  have  set  us 
in  the  right  way.  Others  have  done  much  for  our  outward 
prosperity,  and  we  thank  them  ;  but  you  have  made  our 
souls  alive,  and  you  are  the  greatest  of  our  benefactors." 

My  friends,  how  easy  it  is  to  earn  the  sweetness  which  be- 
longs to  those  who  have  turned  many  to  righteousness !  It 
is  not  necessary  that  one  should  be  a  minister,  that  he  should 
be  learned  in  theology  or  possess  worldly  treasures,  to  do 
good  in  this  way.  Silver  and  gold  we  may  not  have  ;  but 
such  as  we  have  we  may  give  in  a  spiritual  influence  which 
will  be  far  better  than  any  earthly  treasure.  O,  that  wc 
might  feel  that  love  of  souls  which  filled  the  heart  of  the 
Saviour  and  of  his  apostles ;  which  led  Jesus  to  rejoice  iu 


"  NO   MAN   CARED    FOR   MY   SOUL."  191 

the  opportunity  of  teaching  the  Samaritan  woman ;  which 
caused  Paul  to  feel  that  he  would  gladly  spend  and  be  spent 
for  the  Corinthian  converts,  for  that  he  sought  not  theirs, 
but  them ;  and  to  say  to  the  Thessalonians,  "  Ye  are  my 
glory  and  my  joy,  my  hope,  and  crown  of  rejoicing.  Your- 
selves know,  brethren,  that,  being  affectionately  desirous  of 
you,  we  were  willing  to  have  imparted  unto  you,  not  the 
gospel  of  God  only,  but  also  our  own  souls,  because  ye  were 
dear  to  us  ;  as  ye  know  how  we  exhorted  and  comforted  and 
charged  every  one  of  you,  as  a  father  doth  his  children,  that 
ye  should  walk  worthy  of  God  "  ! 

How  infinitely  greater,  deeper,  more  permanent,  is  the 
good  which  we  do  to  others,  when  we  do  good  to  their 
souls,  than  that  which  we  can  do  for  them  in  any  other 
way  !  If  we  can  bring  any  one  to  live  in  reliance  on  God, 
in  submission  to  his  will,  in  the  discharge  of  duty,  in  the 
love  and  service  of  his  neighbor,  we  may  be  sure  that  we 
have  done  them  real  good,  —  good  which  may  outlast  the 
Pyramids  ;  which  may  fill  heaven  with  joy  in  the  most  dis- 
tant ages,  and  materially  advance  the  cause  of  Christ  in  the 
world.  I  remember  a  distinguished  man  in  the  Church,  a 
man  whose  influence  was  wide  and  profound,  who  said  that 
his  earliest  religious  impressions  came  from  a  humble  and 
ignorant  woman,  who  used  to  exhort  him  earnestly  when  he 
was  a  child,  and  whose  deep  faith  he  felt  and  acknowledged. 
Through  him  and  his  writings,  this  poor  woman  is  now 
moving  the  world. 

Why,  then,  do  we  not  have  more  care  for  souls?  It  is 
partly  because  the  god  of  this  world  has  blinded  our  hearts  ; 
because,  not  being  spiritual,  we  do  not  feel  the  reality  of 
spiritual  things  ;  because  we  do  not  feel  the  infinite  value 
of  souls,  the  terrible  evil  of  sin  ;  because  we  have  not  faith  in 
ourselves,  in  our  own  power  of  doing  good  by  anything  we 
can  say ;  because  we  have  not  faith  that  God  will  help  us  to 
say  what  we  ought ;  and  because,  moreover,  we  sometimes 


192  "  NO  MAN  CARED   FOR  MY  SOUL." 

say  as  Cain  did,  "Am  I  my  brother's  keeper  ?"  though  ia 
a  different  spirit  from  that  in  which  he  said  it.  We  doubt 
whether  we  have  a  right  to  do  anything  for  the  spiritual 
good  of  our  neighbor ;  we  think  that  religion  is  a  matter 
between  him  and  God,  which  we  cannot  interfere  with  ;  we 
think  that  he  must  bear  his  own  burden,  and  we  forget  that 
we  must  help  him  to  bear  it.  We  carry  independence  in 
religion  too  far,  till  it  becomes  mere  individualism  ;  and  we 
neglect  the  great  law  of  love,  which  binds  soul  to  soul,  and 
ordains  that  no  man  liveth  to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to 
himself. 

There  is  still  another  feeling  which  prevents  us  from 
direct  attempts  to  help  each  other's  soul,  —  the  feeling  that 
more  can  be  done  indirectly  than  directly ;  that  we  can  do 
more  for  others  by  the  influence  of  a  good  life  and  good 
example  than  by  direct  exhortation  or  advice.  There  is, 
indeed,  great  weight  in  this  consideration.  Certainly,  one 
way,  and  perhaps  the  most  important  way,  in  which  we  can 
help  the  souls  of  others,  is  by  manifesting  good  principles, 
living  convictions,  faithfulness  to  right,  a  tender  and  loving 
humanity  in  our  own  lives.  I  have  known  men,  who  were 
never  in  the  habit  of  giving  any  direct  spiritual  advice  or 
counsel  at  all,  who  would  never  say  a  word  to  those  about 
them  concerning  duty,  but  who  exercised  the  profoundest 
moral  influence  on  all  that  came  near  them.  They  rayed 
moral  light  on  them  like  the  sun,  and  the  warm  influence  of 
their  virtues  opened  the  hearts  and  elevated  the  souls  of 
all  near.     One  of  our  poets  says  well,  — 

*'  Nor  knowest  thou  what  argument 
Thy  life  to  thy  neighbor's  creed  hath  lent." 

Yet  I  cannot  but  think  that  direct  influence  might  often 
with  advantage  be  added  to  indirect;  and  that,  witliout 
urging  upon  reluctant  minds  spiritual  considerations,  without 
prematurely  pulling  open  the  folded  bud  of  the  spiritual  life, 


193 

without  violating  the  sacred  retirement  and  holy  privacy  of 
the  interior  soul,  we  may  yet,  if  we  are  Avatchful,  find  many 
opportunities  of  saying  words  of  direct  counsel,  which  shall 
come  at  the  right  time,  shall  fall  into  the  right  place,  and  be 
like  seed,  to  bear  thirty,  fifty,  and  a  hundred  fold.  There 
are  many,  more  than  I  suppose  we  think  of,  who  are  waiting 
and  wishing  to  be  spoken  to  upon  such  themes  as  these. 
There  are  many  more,  who,  though  now  immersed  in  w^orld- 
liness,  feel  no  satisfaction  therein,  and  would  gladly  be  called 
up  to  a  higher  mode  of  life  by  the  tender,  friendly,  and  ele- 
vating voice  which  should  speak  to  the  deepest  places  of  the 
heart  and  mind. 

There  are,  then,  these  ways  in  which  we  can  manifest  our 
care  of  souls  :  By  shedding  a  good  influence  upon  them  from 
our  own  life  ;  by  studying  their  state,  and  trying  to  find  fit 
opportunities  of  uttering  words  of  caution  or  encouragement, 

or  of 

"  Soft  rebuke  in  blessings  ended;  " 

and  finally  by  prayer.  For  we  can  never  approach  God 
more  acceptably,  or  with  a  greater  certainty  of  having  our 
prayers  answered,  than  when  we  are  praying  for  the  soul's 
good  of  our  brethren.  We  must  be  praying  then  in  the 
spirit  of  Christ.  We  may  then  lean  on  the  promise,  "If  ye 
abide  in  me,  and  my  words  abide  in  you,  ye  shall  ask  what 
ye  will,  and  it  shall  be  done  for  you."  No  prayer  can  go 
up  more  acceptable  to  God  from  any  human  heart  than  that 
which  asks  that  the  loved  one  may  be  preserved  from  some 
insnaring  temptation,  from  the  bewildering  sophistry  of 
worldliness,  from  the  snares  of  error  ;  which  asks  not  out- 
ward good,  but  inward  life,  for  those  most  dear  ;  which  prays 
that  they  may  hold  fast  their  integrity,  and  enter  into  tlie 
blessed  rest  of  the  children  of  God.  When  Augustine  was 
about  to  go  to  Italy,  his  mother  Monica,  a  pious  Christian, 
prayed  that  he  might  be  prevented,  as  she  feared  the  tempta- 
tions of  Rome.  But  he  went,  and  was  converted  to  Chris- 
13 


194  "  NO   MAN   CARED   FOR   MY   SOUL." 

tianity  at  Milan  by  Ambrose.  "  Thou,  O  my  God  !  "  says 
he,  "  didst  give  her  not  what  she  asked  then,  but,  by  refusing 
that,  didst  give  what  she  was  always  asking."  The  prayer 
of  the  righteous  for  the  souls  of  others  must  be  at  last 
effectual. 

But  though  Christians  are  not  faithful  to  this  duty,  though 
their  love  grows  cold,  and  though  many  are  obliged  to  say, 
"  No  man  cares  for  my  soul,"  yet  ihere  is  One  who  always 
cares  for  the  souls  of  all  his  children.  God  cares  for  souls 
evermore.  All  souls  are  his,  and  he  will  not  let  them  go 
without  many  an  effort  to  draw  them  up  to  himself.  He  sends 
many  blessed  influences,  he  sends  many  holy  providences, 
ever  to  those  who  are  neglected  and  forsaken  by  man.  He 
does  not  leave  himself  without  a  witness  in  the  most  aban- 
doned heart.  Multitudes  are  abandoned  of  man,  but  none 
abandoned  of  God.  If  they  do  not  like  to  retain  him  in 
their  thoughts,  he  leaves  them  to  themselves  ;  but  he  does 
not  forget  nor  forsake  them.  His  love  pursues,  surrounds, 
and  calls  after  them.  He  sees  the  first  dawning  light  in 
their  heart ;  he  sees  them  when  yet  a  great  way  off.  If  we 
are  God's  children,  if  we  are  Christ's  disciples,  we  also 
should  love  the  souls  of  all ;  for  to  God  and  to  Christ  all 
souls  are  dear. 


XIX.      • 

LIFE  AND  THE  EESURRECTION. 

(An  Easter  Sermon.) 

John  xi.  25,   26:    '*I  am   the  resurrection  and  the  life.     He 

THAT  BELIEVETH  IN  ME,  THOUGH  HE  AVERE  DEAD,  YET  SHALL  HE 
LIVE  ;  AND  WHOSOEVER  LIVETH  AND  BELIEVETH  IN  ME  SHALL 
NEVER  DIE."^ 

1  Pet.  i.  3 :  "  Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  which,  according  to  his  abundant  mercy, 
hath  begotten  us  again  unto  a  living  hope  by  the  resur- 
RECTION OF  Jesus  Christ  from  the  dead." 

Phil.  iii.  10-12 :  "  That  I  may  know  him,  and  the  power  of 
his   resurrection,  and   the   fellowship  of  his  sufferings, 

BEING  made  CONFOR3IABLE  UNTO  HIS  DEATH ;  IF  BY  ANY  MEANS 
I  BIIGHT  ATTAIN  UNTO  THE  RESURRECTION  OF  THE  DEAD;  NOT 
AS  THOUGH  I  HAD  ALREADY  ATTAINED,  EITHER  WERE  ALREADY 
PERFECT." 

Rom.  vi.  3-8:  "Know  ye   not   that   so   3Iany   of   us   as  were 

BAPTIZED   INTO    JeSUS  ChRIST  WERE    BAPTIZED    INTO    HIS    DEATH  ? 

Therefore  we  are  buried  with  hi3i  by  baptism  into  death  ; 

THAT   LIKE    AS    ChRIST   WAS    RAISED    UP    FROM    THE    DEAD    BY   THE 

glory  of  the  father,  even  so  we  also  should  walk  in 
newness  of  life.  for,  if  we  have  been  planted  together 
in  the  likeness  of  his  death,  we  shall  be  also  in  the 
likeness  of  his  resurrection.  .  .  .  now,  if  we  be  dead  with 
Christ,  we  believe  that  we  shall  also  live  with  him." 
1  Cor.  XV.  49:  "As  we  have  borne  the  image  of  the  earthy, 

WE    SHALL   ALSO    BEAR   THE    IMAGE    OP   THE    HEAVENLY." 

THAT  God  has  placed  in  man  an  instinctive  conscious- 
ness of  his  immortality,  is,  I  think,  very  evident.     We 
call  it  an  instinct,  because  we  can  find  no  better  word  for  it ; 

(195) 


196  LIFE  AND    THE   RESURRECTION. 

but  man's  instincts  differ  from  those  of  the  animals  in  sev- 
eral ways.  The  instincts  of  animals  are  invariable,  univer- 
sal, and  unchangeable,  or  nearly  so.  Those  of  men  are 
different  in  degree  in  different  persons  ;  are  modified  and 
changed  by  circumstances  in  each  man ;  and  are  susceptible 
of  modification,  growth,  and  improvement. 

The  instincts  of  dogs,  foxes,  and  vipers,  were  the  same  in 
the  days  of  ^sop  that  they  are  now  ;  the  eagle  fed  its  young 
in  the  time  of  Isaiah  very  much  as  at  the  present  day ;  the 
community  of  bees,  of  beavers,  and  of  ants,  was  governed 
and  arranged  according  to  the  same  constitution  and  code  of 
laws  in  the  nineteenth  century  before  Christ  as  in  the  nine- 
teenth century  after  him.  Man,  too,  has  a  social  instinct, 
which  causes  him  always  to  organize  a  society,  and  to  come 
into  some  kind  of  community.  He  does  this  instinctively 
and  necessarily ;  but.  how  different  are  his  societies,  and 
modes  of  organizing  them  !  They  were  patriarcluil  among 
the  Jews,  arranged  in  families  ;  hierarciial  among  the  Egyp- 
tians, formed  according  to  priestly  arrangements  and  re- 
ligious laws.  Society  took  the  form  of  clans  in  Scotland  ; 
of  tribes  among  the  Indians  ;  of  feudal  societies,  or  a  military 
system,  in  the  middle  ages  ;  of  castes  and  fixed  occupations 
in  India ;  and,  in  modern  Europe  and  America,  of  perfect 
liberty,  or  the  absence  of  all  organization.  Yet  througli  all 
this  variety  remains  the  same  instinct  of  society  ;  the  dispo- 
sition to  come  together  and  work  together  in  clans,  families, 
castes,  towns,  corporations,  armies,  or  churches.  If  men 
wish  to  fight,  they  unite  in  an  army  ;  if  they  wish  to  make 
cotton,  they  unite  in  a  corporation  ;  if  they  wish  to  pray, 
they  uuite  in  a  church  ;  if  they  wish  to  amuse  themselves, 
they  unite  in  a  club  or  picnic  or  ball-room  ;  if  they  wish  to 
study,  they  unite  in  a  school  or  college.  Who  does  not  see 
here  an  irresistible  instinct  of  society  existing  in  man,  yet 
modified  in  a  thousand  ways  by  circumstances,  by  choice,  or 
by  reason? 


LIFE   AND    THE   RESURRECTION.  197 

We  call  that  tendency,  then,  an  instinct  in  mankind, 
whi(;h  causes  it  continually  to  think,  feel,  and  act  in  certain 
ways.  These  instincts  are  very  numerous.  There  are  re- 
ligious instincts,  moral  instincts,  social  instincts,  warlike 
instincts  ;  the  instinct  of  construction,  of  art,  of  science,  of 
commerce,  of  accumulation.  An  instinctive  tendency  is  that 
which  is  to  be  found  more  or  less  developed  in  every  one, 
and  which  acts  in  every  one  at  first  independently  of  reason 
and  choice. 

Now,  there  is  in  man  an  instinctive  feeling  of  immortality. 
This  shows  itself  exactly  as  all  the  other  instincts  show 
themselves.  Men,  in  all  ages,  countries,  nations,  races,  have 
believed  in  a  future  life :  but  they  have  had  very  different 
notions  about  the  future  life.  The  Egyptians,  long  before 
Moses,  believed  fully  in  a  future  life,  into  which  men  were 
admitted  after  a  judgment  by  Osiris.  Pythagoras,  and 
many  ancient  religions,  taught  transmigration  ;  the  Greeks 
held  to  the  Elysian  Fields  and  Tartarus.  The  Chinese, 
Hindoos,  Buddhists,  ancient  Persians,  Scandinavians,  North 
American  Indians,  Mexicans,  Peruvians,  all  had  an  in- 
stinctive belief  in  immortality,  though  they  took  a  hundred 
different  views  as  to  its  nature.  This,  I  think,  proves  the 
existence,  in  man,  of  an  instinct  of  immortality ;  for  it 
has  all  the  attributes  of  an  instinct.  It  is  universal, — 
appearing  in  all  races  and  times.  It  is  involuntary,  — 
coming  up  of  jtself  before  any  instruction.  It  is  constant,  — 
never  disappearing  from  human  consciousness,  however 
much  it  may  be  modified  therein.  It  is  active  and  opera- 
tive, —  showing  itself  as  a  feeling,  a  longing  after  immor- 
tality ;  as  a  belief  in  some  kind  of  immortality ;  and  an 
action  leading  to  certain  religious  practices  in  relation  to 
imm.ortality. 

Moreover,  every  one  is  conscious  of  this  instinct  in  him- 
self. We  all,  in  our  desire  and  thought,  reach  forward 
beyond  death  ;  we  imagine  ourselves  as  present  in  this  world 


198  LIFE   AND   THE   RESURRECTION. 

after  we  die,  and  as  always  existing  somewhere.  It  is 
almost  impossible  to  realize  the  end  of  our  own  conscious- 
ness. If  we  try  to  imagine  ourselves  as  annihilated,  we  also 
imagine  ourselves  as  looking  on,  and  seeing  ourselves  anni- 
hilated. 

This  instinct  of  immortality  may,  indeed,  be  dormant  in 
man.  It  is  so  as  long  as  the  lower  nature  is  supreme. 
While  we  live  from  the  body,  we  die,  and  have  no  sense  of 
immortal  life  ;  when  we  live  from  the  spirit,  we  are  full 
of  immortality,  and  death  is  abolished.  Hence  Paul  says, 
*'  In  Adam  we  die,  in  Christ  we  are  made  alive  ;  "  because 
Christ  rouses  the  immortal  part  of  our  nature.  The  Adam 
within  us  has  no  faith  in  immortality,  no  sense  of  a  higher 
life.  It  is  not  until  it  is  quickened  by  the  spirit,  not  till  the 
spirit  is  alive,  that  it  believes  in  life.  One  part  of  our 
nature  has  no  instinct  of  immortality ;  and  those  in  whom 
that  part  is  supreme  know  nothing  in  their  consciousness  of 
any  permanent  and  advancing  life :  their  life  holds  by  the 
body,  not  by  the  spirit.  But  those  in  whom  spirit  is  su- 
preme have  an  instinctive  sense  of  permanent  being :  their 
life  is  the  guaranty  of  its  own  perpetuity.  They  need  no 
argument  to  convince  them  of  immortality  ;  the  law  of  life 
within  them  is  its  own  argument. 

This  instinct  of  immortality  in  man  has  been  made,  by  all 
thinkers  from  the  time  of  Plato,  an  argument  for  a  helief  in 
immortality.* 

*  In  a  recent  number,  however,  of  the  "  Atlantic  Magazine,"  a 
writer  has  denied  the  force  of  this  argument,  in  a  somewhat  flippant 
way.  This  is  the  writer  known  by  the  title  of  the  "Country  Par- 
son ;  "  and  he  understands  the  argument  to  be,  that  man  wishes  for 
immortality,  and  consequently  is  immortal.  This  argument  he  easily 
refutes,  and  calls  it  rubbish.  Now,  when  all  great  thinkers,  from 
Plato  to  Addison  inclusive,  have  considered  an  argument  sound 
which  this  writer  calls  rubbish,  saying  that  he  "cannot  understand 
how  any  one  ever  regarded  it  as  having  the  smallest  force,"  it  is  well 


LIFE   AND   THE   RESURRECTION.  199 

1  do  not  think  it  does  much  good  to  argue  with  those  in 
whom  the  instinct  of  immortality  has  not  been  awakened. 

to  recall  the  maxim  of  Coleridge:  "Until  I  can  understand  the 
ignorance  of  Plato,  I  will  conclude  myself  ignorant  of  his  under- 
standing." Tills  writer  does  not  understand  the  argument.  The 
argument  is  not,  that,  because  we  wish  for  a  thing,  we  shall  certainly 
have  it;  but  it  is  this:  "Whenever  God  places  an  instinctive  ten- 
dency in  his  creatures,  universal,  constant,  permanent,  he  provides 
something  which  corresponds,  in  reality  and  fact,  to  that  tendency." 
For  example:  He  gives  to  certain  birds  the  instinct  of  migration. 
Some  of  the  duck  and  geese  family  go  north  as  far  as  the  shores  of 
Hudson's  Bay,  and  to  the  fifty-third  degree  of  north  latitude,  every 
autumn,  and  return  to  the  Middle  and  Southern  States  every  spring. 
Accordingly,  the  particular  grasses  and  berries  needed  by  these  birds 
grow  in  that  region.  The  horse  has  an  instinct  for  grass,  and  God 
makes  grass  for  him  to  eat.  Animals,  as  soon  as  they  are  born,  be- 
gin to  exercise  these  instincts,  and  find  always  provision  made  for 
them.  So  man,  having  a  social  instinct,  finds  opportunities  for  soci- 
ety ;  having  an  instinct  for  construction,  finds  himself  provided  with 
that  most  wonderful  and  comprehensive  chest  of  tools,  —  a  hand; 
having  an  instinct  of  observation,  has  the  portable  telescope  and 
microscope  called  an  eye.  The  argument,  therefore,  is,  that,  an  in- 
stinctive longing  for  immortality  having  been  given,  immortality  is 
provided.  This,  it  may  be  observed,  is  quite  a  different  argument 
from  what  the  modern  critic  imagines  it  to  be.  Suppose,  when  the 
flock  of  geese  is  preparing  itself  to  quit  its  winter  residence  in  North 
Carolina,  and  collects  in  the  swamps  to  make  its  arrangements  for 
moving  to  its  summer  villa  on  Hudson's  Bay,  a  young  goose,  who 
had  never  yet  made  the  journey,  should  fly  up  on  a  stump,  and  make 
a  speech  to  show  that  they  had  no  reason  for  believing  there  was  any 
such  place  as  the  North,  with  its  grass  and  berries ;  and  suppose  the 
geese  should  reply,  that,  since  an  instinct  to  migrate  North  had  been 
given  them  by  God,  they  might  assume  that  God  had  provided  a  North 
for  them  to  go  to.  That  would  be  Plato's  argument,  as  Plato  made 
it.  And  if  the  young  goose  should  reply,  that,  because  they  wished 
for  a  thing,  it  was  no  reason  for  believing  it.  since  he  had  often  wished 
for  a  berry,  and  had  not  found  it,  that  would  be  the  argument  of  the 
"  Country  Parson,"  —  unable  to  distinguish  between  a  transient  wish 
for  a  particular  fact,  and  a  permanent  instinct  tending  towards  a  dis- 
tant state  or  condition. 


200  LIFE   AND   THE   RESURRECTION. 

Two  men  were  once  arguing  about  immortality  ;  Mr.  A  try- 
ing to  convince  Mr.  B  that  there  was  such  a  thing,  and  Mr. 
B  not  being  able  to  believe  it.  At  last,  after  a  long  conver- 
sation, Mr.  B  took  his  hat,  and  departed.  Mr.  A  sat  in  his 
chair,  thinking,  and  at  last  fell  asleep.  He  dreamed  he  was 
Avalking  in  the  Mammoth  Cave,  stumbling  along  through  its 
many  avenues  and  intricate  recesses,  till  he  came  to  the  river. 
Here  two  little  fishes  put  up  their  heads,  and  said,  "  Mr.  A, 
Mr.  A,  do  you  really  believe  there  is  such  a  thing  as  sun- 
light? We  hear  those  Avho  go  through  this  cave  talking 
about  sunlight ;  but  we  do  not  believe  in  it."  So  he  stopped, 
and  argued  with  them,  quoted  all  authorities  on  optics,  ex- 
pounded to  them  the  doctrines  of  refraction  and  reflection, 
referred  to  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  and  even  pulled  a  prism  from 
his  pocket  to  explain  the  prismatic  rays.  "  Why,"  said  he, 
*'  without  light,  how  could  we  do  anything?  how^  read,  how 
work,  how  play,  how  distinguish  the  colors  and  forms  of 
flowers?  and  of  what  use  would  our  eyes  be?"  —  "We  have 
not  got  any  eyes,"  said  the  two  little  fishes  ;  and  so,  to  be 
sure,  it  was.  They  had  no  eyes !  No  use  arguing  with 
them  about  light,  so  long  as  they  had  no  eyes.  There  are 
many  things  which  we  believe,  not  because  of  any  argument, 
but  by  the  exercise  of  the  faculty  appropriate  to  the  thing. 
The  affectionate  man  believes  in  love,  the  generous  man  iu 
generosity,  the  religious  man  in  God,  the  musician  in  music. 
The  man  with  a  large  organ  of  marvellousness  easily  believes 
in  spirits  and  in  miracles.  The  man  with  a  large  organ  of 
hope  easily  believes  in  the  future  life.  Cultivate  the  musical 
organ,  and  you  become  convinced  of  the  reality  of  music. 
Cultivate  the  organs  of  faitli  and  hope,  and  you  see  the  real- 
ity of  a  future  life.  It  becomes  a  part  of  your  own  exist- 
ence ;  something  that  no  sceptical  argument  can  touch. 

So  much  for  immortality;  but  what  is  the  resurrection? 
It  is  the  human  being  rising  up,  at  death,  into  a  higher  state. 
The  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  teaches  that  the  state  after 


LIFE    AND   THE   RESURRECTION.  201 

death  is  higher  than  the  present  state  ;  that  it  is  a  rising-np 
of  all  souls  into  a  higher  life  than  this.  It  is  the  rising  of 
all,  good  and  bad,  —  the  good  rising  into  life  ;  the  bad  rising 
into  judgment,  or  to  the  sight  of  truth.  That  all  rise,  appears 
from  the  passage  which  makes  life  in  Christ  exactly  equal  in 
extent  to  death  in  Adam.  "  As  in  Adam  all  die,  even  so  in 
Christ  shall  all  be  made  alive."  That  the  resurrection  is  of 
the  wicked  as  well  as  of  the  good,  appears  from  the  passage 
which  declares  that  *'  the  hour  cometh  in  which  all  that  are 
in  their  graves  shall  hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  man,  and 
come  forth,  —  they  that  have  done  good,  to  the  resurrection 
of  life  ;  and  they  that  have  done  evil,  to  the  resurrection  of 
damnation."  That  is,  speaking  strictly,  to  the  resurrection 
of  judgment.*  Though  this  judgment  on  the  soul,  which 
shows  to  it  its  sin,  is  a  source  of  suffering,  it  is  nevertheless 
an  ascent  to  a  higher  state,  a  rising-up  of  the  soul.  This  is 
the  resurrection.     It  is  not  merely  rising  again,  but  it  is 

*  "  Resurrection  of  damnation  "  (John  v.  29),  ccvaoraoiv  xoiaiajg, — 
the  rising-up  for  judgment.  The  word  y.Qioig,  translated  "damna- 
tion "  here  in  our  Bible,  occurs  forty-eight  times  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment. 

It  is  translated  by  "  damnation  "  three  times,  by  "  condemnation" 
twice,  by  "accusation"  twice,  by  "judgment "  /or^y-one  times. 
Wherever  the  word  is  translated  "damnation,"  it  might  be  rendered 
"judgment,"  and  the  sense  would  be  good;  but  where  it  is  transhited 
"judgment,"  if  we  should  change  it  to  "damnation,"  it  would  make 
nonsense. 

For  example:  In  the  passage,  "He  hath  committed  all  judgment 
unto  the  Son,"  we  could  hardly  say,  "  He  hath  committed  all  damna- 
tion unto  the  Son."  In  the  passage,  —  "  the  Aveightier  matters  of  the 
law,  judgment,  mercy,  and  faith,"  —  it  would  not  do  to  say,  "Ye  have 
omitted  damnation,  mercy,  and  faith."  But  where  it  is  declared, 
that  he  who  blasphemes  the  Holy  Ghost  "  is  in  danger  of  eternal 
damnation,"  it  would  do  perfectly  well  to  say,  "Is  in  danger  of 
eternal  judgment." 

The  radical  meaning  of  the  word  is  unquestionably  "judgment;" 
and  this  meaning  wc  may  give  wherever  it  makes  good  sense. 


202  LIFE    AND   THE   RESURUECTIOxX. 

rising  up.  It  is  not  simply  a  return  to  life,  but  it  is  <an 
ascent  to  a  higher  life.  Christ  himself  is  the  resurrection, 
because  he  is  this  higher  life  of  the  soul.  He  is  the  life- 
giving  Spirit.  It  is  because  all  have  affinity  with  him  that 
all  rise.  In  every  man  there  is  spirit  as  well  as  soul ;  and 
the  spirit  is  the  buoyant  principle  which  carries  us  up  to  a 
higher  state. 

It  will  be  seen  that  I  by  no  means  accept  the  common  idea 
of  the  resurrection.  I  by  no  means  regard  it  as  merely  a 
return  to  life.  It  is  not  rising  again  :  it  is  rising  up.  The 
doctrine  of  the  resurrection  is,  that  the  future  life  is  an 
advance  upon  the  present,  —  a  higher  state. 

With  this  view  of  the  resurrection,  and  omitting,  for  the 
present,  all  reference  to  the  resurrection  of  the  body,  let  us 
look  at  one  particular  passage  to  see  if  we  can  understand  its 
statements.  This  passage  is  1  Cor.  xv.  12—23,  and  contains 
the  famous  discussion  of  the  resurrection. 

Some  persons  among  the  Corinthians  said  that  there  was 
no  resurrection  of  the  dead.  Who  were  they?  and  what  did 
they  deny  ?  Did  they  deny  a  future  life  altogether  ?  This  is 
impossible.  It  is  impossible  to  suppose  that  any  members 
of  the  Christian  Church  in  that  age  could  have  held  such  a 
doctrine  as  this.  With  what  motive  could  any  have  joined 
the  Church  of  Christ,  in  the  face  of  persecution,  if  they  did 
not  believe  in  a  future  life  ?  They  were  uot  materialists,  but 
idealists.  They  maintained,  probably,  like  Hymeneus  and 
Philetus,  that  the  resurrection  is  past  already.  They  be- 
lieved in  a  future  life,  but  in  no  future  universal  risiug-up 
into  a  higiier  state.  Perhaps  they  held  that  ideal  opinion 
common  to  so  many  countries,  and  in  so  many  ages,  of  the 
absorption  of  the  soul  in  God.  They  believed  in  an  immor- 
tality of  the  soul ;  for  that  was  a  common  belief  in  Greece  : 
but  they  did  uot  believe  in  the  rising-up  of  the  whole  man, 
soul  and  body,  into  a  higher  life. 

Paul  maintains,  in  opposition  to  this  doubt,  that  there  is  a 


LIFE   AND   THE   RESURRECTION.  203 

resurrection  of  all  the  dead  ;  and,  first,  from  the  consequences 
of  the  opposite  opinion. 

If  there  be  no  resurrection,  the  first  consequence  is,  that 
Christ  has  not  risen.  Christ  has  not  gone  up  to  a  higher 
degree  of  power,  into  a  higher  state  of  life,  nearer  to  God. 
Christ  is  living  somewhere  in  the  realm  of  departed  souls  ; 
but  we  know  not  where,  nor  how.  He  is  not  near  to  us  ;  he 
has  no  power  to  help  us  ;  and,  if  this  is  so,  our  faith  is  vain. 
It  is  empty  of  all  substance.  It  is  as  true  as  ever  ;  but  it 
has  no  power,  no  life,  no  conquering  energy.  The  gospel 
was  as  true  as  ever  when  Christ  hung  on  the  cross ;  it  was 
as  true  as  ever  when  he  lay  in  the  tomb.  If  Christ  were 
no  more,  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  would  still  be  true.  It 
would  still  be  our  duty  to  love  our  neighbor  as  ourselves. 
The  parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son  would  be  forever  true  ;  but 
it  would  be  truth  like  that  of  Plato  or  Seneca,  —  abstract 
truth.  When  Christ  rose,  he  added  power  to  truth.  It  was 
triumphant  truth.  He  had  conquered  his  foes.  He  was 
still  present  with  his  disciples,  seen  by  them  in  his  risen 
state.  He  was  with  them,  ready  to  help  them  from  that 
higher  state.  Now  their  faith  is  not  empty,  but  filled  with 
living  courage  and  hope.  They  can  do  all  things  now  ;  for 
Christ  strengthens  them.  If  they  die,  they  rise  up  to  be  with 
him.  But  if  this  is  all  a  mistake,  and  there  be  no  such  law 
of  progress  at  all,  then  there  is  no  hope  for  us  to  conquer  our 
sins  ;  then  those  who  have  fallen  asleep  in  Christ  have  not 
gone  up  to  be  with  him,  living  and  advancing  souls  ;  but 
have  disappeared  into  the  inane  realm  of  Hades.  Then  our 
great  hope  for  ourselves  and  for  humanity  is  idle.  Our 
preaching  of  the  gospel,  and  our  labors  in  its  behalf,  are 
a  dream.  Our  expectations  are  an  illusion ;  and,  if  we 
are  thus  disappointed,  we  are,  of  all  men,  the  most  mis- 
erable. 

You  may  say,  "  O,  no  !  Paul  was  not  the  most  miserable 
of  all  men  ;   for  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  doing  his  duty. 


204  LIFE   AND   THE   RESURRECTION. 

Virtue  is  its  own  reward.  He  had  the  peace  which  passes 
understanding.  He  was  happy  in  himself.  He  had  received 
a  hundred-fold  more  in  the  present  time.  He  himself  said, 
that  '  godliness  has  the  promise  of  the  life  which  now  is,  as 
well  as  that  which  is  to  come.'  Why  then  say,  '  If  in  this 
life  only  w^e  have  hope  in  Christ,  we  are  of  all  men  most 
miserable  '  ?  " 

Well,  some  men  may  support  themselves  in  this  way,  and 
take  this  comfort ;  but  Paul  could  not.  His  object  was  not 
self-culture,  not  to  save  his  own  soul,  not  to  be  the  stoical 
Avise  man,  satisfied  in  his  own  virtue.  Paul  wished  to  save 
the  world  ;  to  do  all  things  through  Christ,  who  strengthened 
him.  He  was  by  no  means  satisfied  with  anything  less  than 
helping  Christ  to  redeem  the  world.  He  did  not  wish  to  be 
happy,  or  to  save  his  own  soul ;  but  he  was  willing  even  to 
be  banished  from  the  presence  of  Christ,  if  he  could  thereby 
save  the  souls  of  his  brethren.  Therefore  he  would  be,  of 
all  men,  the  most  miserable,  if  that  great  hope  for  the  world 
was  disappointed. 

"But  now  is  Christ  risen  from  the  dead,  and  become  the 
first-fruits  of  them  that  slept." 

The  first-fruits,  says  Robertson,  were  ofl^ered  to  God,  as  a 
sign  that  the  whole  harvest  belonged  to  him.  Christ  there- 
fore, in  rising,  shows  that  all  are  to  rise,  that  all  are  to 
ascend  into  a  higher  state  of  being.  It  will  be  a  state  in 
which  all  move  forward.  All  may  not  be  happier  or  better, 
but  all  will  be  higher.  All  rise,  —  some  to  life,  some  to 
judgment.  Then  Paul  goes  on  to  say  why  they  rise,  by 
what  law,  and  by  what  power.  "  As  in  Adam  all  die,  even 
so  in  Christ  shall  all  be  made  alive."  In  every  man,  accord- 
ing to  Paul's  view,  is  the  natural  soul,  or  the  Adam,  subject 
to  death ;  and  in  every  man  there  is  also  spirit,  often  dor- 
mant, but  capable  of  being  quickened  into  life  by  the  power 
of  divine  trutii.  This  living  spirit  in  us  is  Christ  within  us. 
When  the  truth  is  accepted  by  the  soul,  the  soul  is  rescued 


LIFE    AND   THE   RESURRECTION.  205 

from  death,  and  made  alive.  All  die  in  Adam.  That  is, 
the  natural  man,  or  the  man  in  whom  the  finite  soul  is  su- 
preme, does  not  see  spiritual  things  ;  has,  therefore,  no  sense 
of  immortality  ;  sees  only  this  life.  This  Adam  is  in  all  of 
us,  this  first  Adam,  which  was  only  made  a  living  soul ; 
made  natural,  not  spiritual ;  made  for  space  and  time. 
When  this  part  of  our  nature  is  supreme,  we  may  believe 
in  immortality,  but  w^e  do  not  realize  it ;  we  are  dead  while 
we  live.  But  when  the  spirit  is  roused  by  the  divine  truth 
which  is  in  Christ,  whether  we  believe  in  immortality  or  not, 
we  have  a  foretaste  of  it.  Immortality  has  begun  within  us. 
The  spirit  being  alive,  the  life  descends  into  the  soul,  and 
that  is  full  of  life.  We  walk  in  newness  of  life.  We  are 
planted  together  in  the  likeness  of  Christ's  resurrection. 
We  are  dead  to  sin,  but  alive  to  God.  The  law  of  the 
spirit  of  life  in  Christ  Jesus  has  made  us  free  from  the 
law  of  sin  and  death  :  for  to  be  spiritually-minded  is  life  ; 
and  the  spirit  is  life,  because  of  righteousness.  So  Christ 
says  that  he  is  Resurrection  and  Life,  —  not  meaning,  cer- 
tainly, that  he  brings  dead  people  to  life  again,  or  that  he 
makes  new  bodies  for  them ;  but  that  he  is  a  life-giving 
spirit  to  the  soul. 

This  passage,  therefore,  declares  that  in  the  Adam  part  of 
our  nature  we  die  ;  but  in  the  Christ  part  of  our  nature  we 
have  life.  Now,  this  life  is  not  mere  existence  :  it  is  activity 
and  progress.  The  signs  of  life  are  sensibility,  activity, 
growth,  intelligent  consciousness,  rational  will.  A  stone 
does  not  live :  but  a  plant  lives ;  for  the  plant  acts  and 
reacts  on  Nature,  can  grow,  can  bear  fruit.  The  dog  has 
more  of  life  :  he  can  feel,  think,  and  will.  But  the  man 
has  more :  for  he  can  rise  out  of  soul  into  spirit ;  can 
see  ideal  truth  ;  can  devote  himself  to  a  rational  purpose  ; 
can  have,  not  merely  attachment,  but  afiection  ;  can  be  tor- 
mented with  his  sins  ;  can  feel  the  pardoning  love  of  God  ; 
can  love  abstract  truth  and  infinite  beauty  ;    is  capable  of 


206  LIFE   AND   THE   RESURRECTION. 

endless  progress  ;  can  worship  the  invisible.  Now  this,  and 
this  only,  is  real  life  ;  and  this  life  excludes  the  thought  of 
death,  and  the  fear  of  it. 

We  see  in  this  passage  the  truth  that  there  is  in  the  doc- 
trine of  universal  salvation. 

Universalisra  is  not  true  if  it  teaches  that  there  is  no  dis- 
tinction after  death  between  good  men  and  bad  ;  if  it  says 
that  all  after  death  go  into  a  state  of  happiness,  or  asserts 
that  all  judgment  and  retribution  take  place  in  the  present 
life.  For  the  mere  act  of  dying  does  not  change  a  bad  man 
into  a  good  one  ;  nor  will  any  one  be  compelled  to  be  happy 
or  to  be  good  hereafter,  against  his  will.  A  future  judgment 
is  necessary,  because  in  this  life  men  deceive  themselves, 
resist  the  truth,  and  refuse  to  see  it ;  and,  wherever  there 
is  judgment,  there  is  suffering.  In  these  points,  therefore, 
some  forms  of  Universalism  are  not  true. 

But  I  think  that  the  apostle  Paul  here  plainly  asserts  that . 
the  life  in  Christ  is  co-extensive  with  the  death  in  Adam. 
Now,  as  all  men,  without  exception,  die  in  Adam,  so  all 
men,  without  exception,  must  be  made  alive  in  Christ.  It 
makes  no  difference  whether  death  be  understood  here  as 
physical  death  or  as  spiritual  death.  In  either  case,  it  in- 
cludes all  human  beings  ;  for  all  human  beings  are  mortal, 
and  all  human  beings  commit  sin.  It  therefore  follows  that 
all  human  beings  shall  be  made  alive  ;  and  not  only  that, 
but  that  they  shall  be  alive  in  Christ.  But  life  in  Christ  is 
salvation  from  siu  and  all  evil.  When  Christ,  who  is  our 
life,  shall  appear,  we  shall  appear  with  him  in  glory.  The 
spirit  of  life  in  Christ  Jesus  makes  us  free  from  the  law  of 
sin  and  death.  To  live  in  Christ  is  necessarily  salvation. 
Therefore  the  apostle  asserts  here,  that  all  human  beings 
shall  ultimately  be  saved.  Ultimately;  for  he  takes  care 
immediately  to  say,  that  every  man  is  to  be  made  alive  "  in 
his  own  order."  Christ  rises  first  into  a  higher  state,  as  the 
first-lruits  ;  then  those  who  belong  to  him  "at  his  coming;" 


LIFE   AND   THE   RESURRECTION.  207 

that  is,  those  who,  when  he  is  manifested  to  them,  accept 
him,  showing  that  their  hearts  are  right,  and  that  they  can 
receive  the  immortal  Word,  which  shall  fill  them  with  the 
higher  life  of  God.  Paul  then  goes  on  to  speak  of  the  end, 
of  the  great  consummation,  the  fulfilment  of  the  Messianic 
reign  and  work,  when  all  souls  shall  be  brought  to  God  ; 
when  no  more  mediation  shall  be  necessary ;  when  all  shall 
believe  and  accept  the  truth,  and  God  be  all  in  all. 

The  main  point  in  the  Christian  doctrine  of  the  resurrec- 
tion is,  that  it  is  a  higher  life  for  all.  All  who  have  borne 
the  image  of  the  earthy  are  to  bear  the  image  of  the  heav- 
enly. All  who  die  in  Adam  are  to  be  made  alive  in  Christ. 
The  next  life  is  higher  than  this  in  all  ways,  —  physically, 
mentally,  morally,  spiritually.  There  will  be  more  of 
thought,  love,  and  action  ;  more  of  inward  life,  more  of 
outward  activity.  It  is  true  that  there  may  be  many  lower 
down  in  the  scale  of  being  after  they  get  there  than  some 
are  in  this  world.  Some  attain  to  a  better  resurrection  in 
this  life  than  others  do  in  the  next.  Still,  Christianity 
teaches  that  the  human  race  moves  up,  after  death,  to  a 
higher  level.  So,  in  this  world,  we  are  no  doubt  on  a 
higher  level  than  animals  ;  but  I  know  some  horses  and 
dogs  which  are  much  better  behaved,  more  intelligent,  re- 
fined, and  moral  beings,  than  some  men.  Still,  the  man  is 
the  higher  animal.  The  apostle  Paul,  though  he  did  not 
think  he  had  attained  to  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  or  was 
perfect,  had  attained  to  it  far  more  than  most  of  us  will, 
long  after  we  have  entered  the  higher  state. 

The  doctrine  of  the  resurrection,  therefore,  is  not  merely 
that  we  continue  to  exist  after  death  :  it  is  that  we  ascend 
to  a  higher  condition  of  being.  This  is  the  faith  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  this  is  what  Christianity  has  always  taught,  and 
induced  men  to  believe.  The  teaching  of  the  Church  has 
been  partial,  not  universal ;  dogmatic,  not  scientific  ;  and  so 


208  LIFE   AND   THE   RESURRECTION. 

has  repelled  a  great  many.  To  many,  the  resurrection  is  as 
repulsive  an  idea  now  as  it  was  to  the  Athenians  and  Corin- 
thians, because  it  seems  not  a  grand  rational  conviction,  but 
a  narrow  theological  dogma.  It  was  a  stumbling-block  to 
the  Athenians.  "  When  they  heard  of  the  resurrection  of 
the  dead,  some  mocked."  It  was  a  stumbling-block  to  the 
Corinthians  ;  for,  even  in  the  Christian  Church  at  Corinth, 
there  were  some  who  said  there  was  "  no  resurrection  of  the 
dead."  They  did  not  deny  immortality  ;  they  were  not  ma- 
terialists, —  they  were  idealists :  but  they  denied  the  resur- 
rection. 

But  the  highest  power  of  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  is,  that 
it  destroys  the  sense  of  weakness,  doubt,  unworthiness,  sin- 
fulness, which  belongs  to  us  all,  and  gives  us  instead  courage 
and  hope.  It  does  for  us  what  it  did  for  the  apostles  :  it 
brings  us  near  to  God,  and  so  gives  us  power  in  our  own 
souls.  Therefore  it  is  said  that  Christ  was  "  raised  for  our 
justification."  The  theologian  is  astonished  at  this  saying. 
He  thinks  that  we  are  justified  by  Christ's  death.  So  we  are, 
but  by  his  resurrection  too.  Scripture  is  more  liberal  in  its 
theology  than  we  are.  It  is  like  Nature :  it  can  reach  the 
same  end  by  different  methods.  If  Nature  sees  the  air  full 
of  miasma,  it  can  purify  it  by  electricity,  —  sending  lightning 
and  thunder  to  shake  it  through  and  through,  and  rain  to 
wash  it  clean  :  or  it  can  do  the  same  thing  by  freezing  cold  ; 
one  sharp  frost  will  drive  away  all  seeds  of  disease  and 
death. 

So  we  are  justified  by  Christ's  death.  For  in  that  holy 
hour  of  ineffable,  unspeakable  sorrow,  in  that  shame  to 
which  he  came  down  for  us,  he  touches  all  hearts.  We 
are  drawn  to  him  by  his  patient  love,  and  our  sins  pass 
away.  The  ice  which  covered  our  hearts  like  a  thick  breast- 
plate melts  under  these  continuous  showers  of  sorrow,  and 
we  feel  ourselves  drawn  to  God  by  the  death  of  his  Son. 
But  also  we  are   drawn   to  God  by   the  ascended   Christ ; 


LIFE   AND   THE   RESURRECTION.  209 

Christ  liviug  now  above  ;  Christ  working  now  for  the  world  ; 
Christ  glorified,  and  surrounded  by  a  great  company  of  lov- 
ing, laboring  men  and  angels.  This  also  fills  us  with  a 
desire  to  leave  our  sins,  and  join  the  great  and  holy  com- 
pany whose  names  are  written  in  his  book.  Dark,  driving 
rains  melt  the  ice ;  warm,  glorious,  sunny  days  melt  it 
also. 

Persons  sometimes  have  a  fear  lest  the  friends  who  have 
gone  before  them  may  have  gone  on  away  from  them ;  that 
progress  may  have  removed  them  too  far  ;  that  they  will 
never  be  able  to  rise  to  their  communion.  But  this  is  to  for- 
get, that,  while  progress  tends  to  separate,  love  tends  to  unite 
again.  The  balance  of  the  spiritual  universe  is  maintained 
by  these  two  antagonistic  forces,  just  as  the  balance  of  the 
material  universe  is  preserved  by  attraction  on  the  one  side, 
and  the  centrifugal  force  on  the  other.  Does  not  a  parent 
love  a  child,  though  the  parent  knows  more,  and  is  higher? 
Did  not  Christ  love  his  disciples?  When  he  went  away,  did 
not  he  say  that  he  went  to  return  again  ?  It  is  the  work  of 
the  highest  angels  to  help  the  lowliest  sinners  ;  and  love 
always  tends  to  bring  together  extremes  and  opposites,  in 
order  that  progress  may  not  pull  the  universe  of  souls  apart. 
Our  angels  do  not  love  us  less  because  they  have  gone  into 
heaven  :  they  love  us  more.  They  do  not  forget  us  because 
they  have  ascended  to  God :  they  remember  us  more.  The 
higher  they  go  up,  the  lowlier  they  lean  down  ;  for  every 
acquisition,  attainment,  and  elevation  in  God's  heaven  is 
used  for  the  good  of  those  who  most  need  help,  light,  and 
deliverance. 

In  thinking  of  the  other  world,  we  sometimes  seem  to 
consider  it  impossible  that  the  myriads  of  human  beings 
who  pass  into  it  from  all  lands,  races,  nations  ;  .of  all  habits, 
tastes,  characters,  opinions,  ages  ;  infants  and  old  men,  saints 
and  pirates  ;  thousands  going  at  once  from  a  field  of  battle, 
—  should  be  provided,  each  with  his  own  home,  sphere,  sur- 
14 


210  LIFE  AND   THE   RESURRECTION. 

roundings ;  that  a  suitable  place  should  be  got  ready  before- 
hand to  receive  every  one  of  them.  But  why  should  that 
be  more  strange  than  that  the  same  provision  has  been  made 
in  this  world  ;  that  the  tens  of  thousands  who  are  born  daily 
are  born  each  into  a  home,  on  the  bosom  of  a  mother,  with 
fostering  care  and  patient  love  around  him?  Each  comes 
wholly  helpless  ;  each  is  helped,  fed,  clothed,  taught,  by  pro- 
vided love.  Not  only  so,  but  of  the  millions  of  insects, 
reptiles,  animals,  fishes,  daily  arriving,  each  one  comes  to 
find  its  blade  of  grass,  its  leaf,  made  ready  for  it ;  each  with 
the  climate,  the  home,  the  food  it  needs.  "  In  my  Father's 
house  are  many  mansions  :  if  it  were  not  so,  I  would  have 
told  you.  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you."  It  may  be  part 
of  the  occupation  of  angels  and  higher  spirits  to  prepare 
suitable  circumstances  for  those  who  are  to  come  after. 

We  must  not  think  of  the  other  world  as  lonely,  empty, 
or  monotonous.  It  is  more  full,  rich,  varied,  than  this ;  it 
has  a  richer  nature,  more  divine  scenery,  more  precious 
society,  more  life,  growth,  thought,  action,  love,  than  this 
world.  If  it  is  a  higher  world,  it  must  be  more  full,  rich, 
and  beautiful. 

The  resurrection  of  Christ  also  teaches  us  that  those  who 
ascend  to  God  continue  the  same  persons  they  were  before, 
—  that  they  have  the  same  character,  only  elevated ;  the 
same  individual  essence,  only  purified  ;  the  same  sweetness 
which  wc  loved,  only  sweeter  ;  the  same  beauty  which  seemed 
to  us  so  enchanting,  only  more  beautiful  still.  They  are,  as 
Bryant  says, 

"Lovelier  in  heaven's  sweet  climate,  yet  the  same." 

For  the  j^oets  are  the  prophets  still,  and  often  tell  us  the  truth 
by  an  inspiration  more  orthodox  than  that  of  the  theologians. 
No  true  poet  ever  for  a  moment  doubted  that  he  should  know 
his  friend  hereafter,  though  theologians  may  sometimes  doubt 
it ;  for  the  heart  which  is  illuminated  by  inspired  thought  can 


LIFE   AND   THE   RESURRECTION.  211 

read  beforehand  the  immortal  and  infinite  quality  in  the  soul, 

—  that  which  is  to  make  the  future  angel.  When  poets  de- 
scribe their  friend,  it  seems  extravagance  to  a  prosaic  nature  ; 
but  it  is  the  ideal  nature  of  their  friend  they  see  and  know, 

—  the  future  angel  in  the  present  mortal. 

When  Whittier  describes  the  young  girl  who  is  gone,  he 
describes  her  as  she  inwardly  was  before  she  went,  as  she 
radiantly  is  now  :  — 

"  As  pure  and  sweet  her  fair  brow  seemed, 
Eternal  as  the  sky  : 
And  like  the  brook's  low  song  her  voice,  — 
A  sound  which  could  not  die. 

"  And  half  we  deemed  she  needed  not 
The  changing  of  her  sphere, 
To  give  to  heaven  a  shining  one 
Who  walked  an  angel  here. 

"  The  blessing  of  her  quiet  life 
Fell  on  us  like  the  dew ; 
And  good  thoughts,  where  her  footsteps  pressed, 
IJke  fairy  blossoms  grew. 

*'  The  measure  of  a  blessed  hymn, 
To  which  our  hearts  could  move ; 
The  breathing  of  an  inward  psalm, 
A  canticle  of  lov^e." 

Jesus  rose,  and  continued  the  same  Jesus  as  before^  He 
continues  the  same  Jesus  still.  Our  hearts  burn  within  us 
as  he  talks  to  us  on  this  Easter  morning,  as  on  that  first 
Easter  when  the  two  disciples  walked  over  the  bare  hills  of 
Judasa  on  their  way  to  Emmaus.  Jesus  has  ascended  up 
higher  and  higher  ;  but  he  is  the  same  tender  friend,  the 
same  forgiving  and  merciful  master,  the  same  perfect  har- 
mony of  awful  truth  and  sweetest  affection,  before  whom  the 
Pharisee  trembled,  and  to  whom  the  little  children  crept. 
He  is   still  the  same   who   said   to  the  hard   bigots,   "  Ye 


212  LIFE   AND   THE   RESURRECTION. 

serpents,  ye  generations  of  vipers  !  "  and  to  the  poor,  trem- 
bling, sinful  woman,  "  Neither  do  I  condemn  thee :  go,  and 
sin  no  more." 

-  And  because  Jesus  in  the  resurrection  is  the  same,  there- 
fore all  those  Avho  surround  him  are  the  same  as  they  were 
before.  *'  We  shall  be  like  him  ;  for  we  shall  see  him  as 
he  is."  He  was  not  unclothed,  but  clothed  upon,  —  his 
mortality  swallowed  up  of  life.  So  shall  it  be  with  our 
friends ;  so,  too,  with  ourselves. 

Christ  makes  the  soul  alive  ;  but  it  is  not  a  belief  in  the 
historical  Christ  which  makes  the  soul  alive,  but  in  the 
Christ  formed  within  us.  I  can  conceive  of  one  full  of 
doubts,  scepticism,  and  unbelief  in  regard  to  the  historic 
Christ,  but  with  a  soul  full  of  spiritual  life.  If  a  man  loves 
God,  and  trusts  in  him  ;  if  he  believes  in  spirit  more  than  in 
matter ;  if  he  believes  in  justice,  truth,  and  right ;  if  he 
loves  his  brother,  and  helps  his  brother  in  this  world, — 
then,  whether  he  knows  it  or  not,  he  belongs  to  Jesus,  and 
he  really  believes  in  him.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  the 
historic  faith  is  unimportant ;  quite  the  contrary  :  but,  though 
important,  it  is  not  essential.  It  belongs  to  theology :  it 
does  not  belong  to  religion.  It  belongs  to  the  intellect,  not 
to  the  heart.  It  is  a  matter  of  correct  thinking,  not  neces- 
sarily a  matter  of  correct  living. 

Of  the  tens  of  thousands  of  sweet  a-nd  holy  souls  which 
pass  every  year  into  the  other  world,  how  many  have  any 
clear  or  exact  belief  concerning  the  historic  Christ?  Of  the 
thousands  of  Christians  who  pass  away  out  of  every  church, 
how  many  know  much,  even  about  their  own  creed?  But 
they  believe  that  God,  the  infinite,  and  unseen,  is  good  ;  and 
they  reverence  him.  They  know  that  Christ  is  to  them, 
somehow,  a  revelation  of  God  as  Father  and  Friend ;  and 
they  believe  that.  They  know  that  this  life  is  sweeter  and 
more  heavenly  in  proportion  as  we  put  into  it  more  of  gen- 
erosity, self-forgetfulness,  and  love.     They  feel  very  humbly 


LIFE   AND   THE   RESURRECTION.  213 

that  they  do  not  do  what  they  ought ;  but  they  try  to  do 
something  for  others.  And  so,  not  knowing  it,  they  are 
already  risen  with  Christ  (as  Paul  says),  and  are  seeking 
the  things  above.  Christ  is  already  their  resurrection  and 
life  :  and  we  feel  concerning  them  that  they  cannot  die  ; 
that  outward  death  is  a  mere  transition  for  them  to  higher 
worlds. 

No  man  fears  deaths  or  believes  in  deaths  when  his  soul  is 
alive.  When  we  are  full  of  any  lofty  conviction,  any  great 
purpose,  any  self-forgetting  love,  death  disappears  :  it  ceases 
to  be  anything.  It  is  no  king  of  terrors  to  us,  except  when 
we  are  in  a  low  and  selfish  state.  When  we  rise  out  of  that 
with  Christ,  he  is  our  resurrection,  and  we  feel  that  we  can- 
not die. 

See  that  old  man,  whose  life  has  been  an  earnest  seeking 
after  truth,  an  earnest  striving  to  do  good.  He  has,  from 
time  to  time,  caught  a  glimpse  of  great  realities.  Too 
honest  to  profess  more  than  he  is  certain  of,  he  has  never 
had  a  very  long  creed :  but  he  has  always  believed  in  good- 
ness ;  he  has  always  believed  in  honesty  and  truth  ;  he  has 
always  been  ready  to  help  the  helpless,  and  comfort  the 
forlorn.  He  did  not  consider  whether  the  poor  man,  who 
needed  his  help,  was  very  good  or  not :  he  needed  his  help  ;  so 
he  tried  to  help  him.  He  did  not  ask  whether  he  was  white  or 
black,  or  yellow  or  red  ;  a  foreigner  or  an  American  :  he  tried 
to  help  him.  He  did  not  exclude  him  from  his  sympathy  be- 
cause he  was  a  negro,  because  he  was  an  Irishman,  because 
he  was  a  Roman  Catholic,  or  because  he  was  an  Atheist. 
If  God  could  bear  with  him,  he  could.  So,  now,  in  the 
calm  evening  of  life,  he  looks  out  on  the  sweet,  sunny  land- 
scape before  his  door,  and  his  heart  brims  over  with  God's 
love.  He  says  to  himself,  "  How  good  God  has  been  to 
me  !  '*  He  thinks  of  his  boyhood,  its  hopes  and  hilarity. 
He  sees  the  field  where  he  played ;  where  he  fode  the  horse 
with  a  halter,  without  saddle ;  the  wood  where  he  went  to 


214  LIFE  AND  THE  RESURRECTION. 

get  nuts ;  the  pond  where  he  fished  and  paddled  in  the 
water.  All  the  kindly  influences  of  Nature,  he  perceives, 
taught  him  ;  and  all  were  God's  messengers  to  his  intellect 
and  heart.  He  remembers  the  dawning  affections  of  his 
soul,  the  sweet  love-story  of  his  youth,  the  struggles  and 
sorrows  of  his  manhood.  He  thinks  of  the  hour  when  God 
gave  him  a  kindred  heart  to  be  his  companion  and  friend  in 
life,  and  how  his  heart  was  opened  and  purified  by  that  affec- 
tion ;  and  he  thinks  of  the  hour  when  he  stood  by  the  open 
grave,  looked  his  last  look  at  that  calm,  serene  face,  and  saw 
all  heaven  opened,  and  immortality  born  out  of  death.  So 
he  sees  God  in  everything,  and  so  he  tranquilly  awaits  his 
own  coming  change.  Christ  is  to  him  life  and  resurrection, 
and  he  does  not  fear  death :  he  knows  that  what  is  good  in 
him  is  real,  and  what  is  real  cannot  die. 

See  that  youth,  full  of  all  good  culture  carefully  acquired, 
full  of  all  choice  and  rare  ability  carefully  trained.  He  has 
studied ;  he  has  travelled ;  he  has  written  books,  not  yet 
published,  but  such  as  will  give  him  a  reputation  among  the 
first  writers  of  his  land.  He  has  studied  man  and  nature, 
and  his  words  flow  rich  in  all  happy  expression  to  convince 
and  charm.  All  life  is  before  him,  full  of  promise.  But,  at 
the  first  call  of  his  country's  need,  he  goes  to  war ;  in  one 
of  the  first  battles,  he  flings  himself  on  the  enemy's  bat- 
teries, and  dies,  shot  by  a  ruthless  bullet  in  the  front  field. 
Did  he  not  love  life?  Did  he  not  fear  death?  He  loved 
life,  but  did  not  fear  death  ;  because  his  soul  was  full  of 
realities ;  because  he  was  not  living  for  a  name  or  an 
appearance,  but  for  duty  and  manly  accomplishment.  He 
has  passed  away  from  earth,  apparently  leaving  his  work  un- 
fulfilled. But  God  has  many  mansions  in  his  house ;  and 
every  soul  will  find  enough  to  do,  and  enough  to  be,  some- 
where in  God's  great  heaven. 

See,  too,  that  woman  who  has  been  for  long  years  a  help- 
loss  invalid,  with  no  ability  (one  would  say)  to  learn  or  do 


LIFE    AND   THE   RESURRECTION.  215 

anything  ;  useless  (one  would  think)  to  herself  and  to  others. 
Ah,  no  !  She  is  learning  in  that  helpless  state  new  lessons 
every  day  of  God's  tender  love ;  she  is  teaching  every  day, 
by  her  patience  and  goodness,  new  lessons  to  others  ;  and 
when  her  time  is  fulfilled,  and  she  is  gently  called  away,  no 
one  thinks,  that,  because  her  body  is  feeble  and  her  sensa- 
tions imperfect,  she  is  not  ready  to  live  on  and  to  go  on. 
The  soul  within  is  full  of  healthy  life,  and  she  cannot 
die. 

These  all  die  in  faith,  not  having  received  the  promises. 

Even  when  a  little  infant  goes,  which  has  never  done 
either  good  or  evil  in  this  world,  its  life's  task  all  unlearned,  its 
earthly  work  all  undone  :  does  any  one  doubt  that  it  goes  where 
better  lessons  will  be  provided,  and  a  more  suitable  duty 
given?  We  say  in  our  souls,  while  tears  dim  our  eyes, 
*'  Let  the  little  one  go  to  Jesus,  and  forbid  him  not ;  for  of 
such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

It  is  not  accomplishment,  it  is  not  attainment,  that  fits  us 
for  a  higher  life  :  it  is  faith.  That  is,  it  is  that  spirit  which 
trusts  and  hopes,  and  looks  forward,  and  does  not  despair. 
It  hopes  for  others  as  for  itself.  It  is  patient,  and  therefore 
strong. 

Immortality  and  resurrection,  therefore,  begin  here.  We 
rise  with  Christ  into  a  higher  life  with  every  right  word,  act, 
purpose,  and  affection.  We  sit  with  Christ  Jesus  now  in 
heavenly  places.  We  are  in  heaven  already  when  we  are 
full  of  love  to  God  and  man  ;  in  hell  already  when  we  lose 
that  love.  Heaven  and  hell  are  both  in  us,  and  all  outward 
heavens  and  hells  through  which  we  may  pass  are  only  the 
reflections  and  supplements  to  our  inward  state.  There  is 
every  variety,  no  doubt,  of  heaven  and  of  hell  in  the  other 
world ;  but  they  are  all  of  them  for  our  good.  If  we  need 
hell,  we  shall  go  there ;  if  we  are  fit  for  heaven,  we  shall  go 
there.  But  God  is  in  both,  and  both  are  his  servants.  He 
does  not  take  away  those  whom  he  loves  to  be  with  himself 


216  LIFE   AND   THE   RESURRECTION. 

in  some  separate  heaven.  He  does  not  leave  the  bad,  aban- 
doned of  all  hope,  to  the  Devil ;  but  he  himself  cares  for 
all,  and  loves  all.  Those  who  do  not  love  him,  he  loves  ; 
those  who  do  not  know  him,  he  knows  ;  those  who  are  as 
yet  wilful,  selfish,  unreconciled,  he  remembers.  No  doubt 
there  are  lost  souls  in  the  other  world,  as  there  are  lost 
souls  in  this  world ;  but  Christ,  who  came  to  seek  and  save 
the  lost  here,  will  seek  and  save  the  lost  hereafter.  Never 
was  there  a  dogma  more  utterly  baseless  than  that  which 
teaches  that  this  short  life  is  all  of  trial  allowed  to  us  ;  that 
all  the  discipline,  probation,  and  opportunity  of  the  soul,  is 
shut  up  in  these  few  earthly  years.  Probably  we  shall  need 
trial  and  probation  for  myriads  of  years  ;  probably  heaven 
itself  shall  not  be  free  from  trial  and  discipline.  Even  the 
angels  and  archangels  may  have  their  temptations,  their  diffi- 
culties, their  great  opportunities,  their  perpetual  choice  of 
freedom. 

After  all,  nothing  helps  us  so  to  believe  in  immortality  and 
heaven  as  death.  The  man  who  is  a  sceptic  and  doubter  iu 
his  study  becomes  a  believer  by  the  pale  face  of  his  darling 
child  or  the  beloved  bride  of  his  heart.  All  which  we  see 
through  a  glass  darkly,  when  we  look  at  it  merely  with  the 
intellect,  we  behold  face  to  face  when  the  heart  is  melted. 
As  Stephen,  stoned  to  death,  saw  heaven  opened,  so  we,  too, 
when  we  are  beaten  down  by  disappointment  and  disaster, 
often  see  heaven  opened. 

*'  Upon  the  frontier  of  this  shadowy  land, 
We,  pilgrims  of  eternal  sorrow,  stand: 
What  realm  lies  forward,  with  its  happier  store 

Of  forests  green  and  deep, 

Of  valleys  hushed  in  sleep, 
And  lakes  most  peaeeful?     'Tis  the  land  of  Evermore. 

"  Very  far  off  its  marble  cities  seem,  — 

Very  far  off,  —  beyond  our  sensual  dream,  — 


LIFE   AND   THE   RESURRECTION.  217 

Its  woods  unruffled  by  the  wild  winds'  roar ; 

Yet  does  the  turbulent  surge 

Howl  on  its  very  verge. 
One  moment,  and  we  breathe  within  the  Evermore. 

•  And  those  we  loved  and  lost  so  long  ago 
Dwell  in  those  cities,  far  from  mortal  woe ; 
Haunt  those  fresh  woodlands,  whence  sweet  carollings  soar. 

Eternal  peace  have  they ; 

God  wipes  their  tears  away ; 
They  drink  that  river  of  life  which  flows  forevermore." 


XX. 

POWER  OF  THE  KEYS. 

Eev.  iii.  7 :  "  These  things  saith  he  that  is  holy,  he  that  is 
tkue;  he  that  hath  the  key  of  David;  he  that  openeth, 
and  no  man  shutteth  ;  and  shutteth,  and  no  bian  openeth." 

Luke  xi.  52 :  *'  Woe  unto  you,  lawyers  !    for  ye  have  taken 

AWAY    THE    KEY    OF     KNOWLEDGE  :     YE    ENTERED    NOT    IN     YOUR- 
SELVES, AND   THOSE   THAT   WERE   ENTERING   IN   YE   HINDERED." 

Matt.  xvi.  19 :  "I  will  give  unto  thee  the  keys  of  the  king- 
dom OF  heaven  ;  AND  WHATSOEVER  THOU  SHALT  BIND  ON  EARTH 
SHALL  BE  BOUND  IN  HEAVEN,  AND  WHATSOEVER  THOU  SHALT 
LOOSE    ON    EARTH    SHALL   BE   LOOSED    IN   HEAVEN." 

A  KEY  is  a  very  ancient  invention.  Y'ou  find  keys,  in 
Egyptian  museums,  made  three  thousand  years  before 
Christ :  so  that  locks  and  keys  were  common  enough  among 
the  Jews  to  be  made  use  of  as  an  ilhistration  and  metaphor 
by  Jesus.  In  fact,  locks  and  keys  mark  an  epoch  in  civili- 
zation. The  savage  has  nothing  to  lock  up.  If  he  has  any- 
thing he  wishes  to  keep  to  himself,  he  hides  it,  as  a 
dog  hides  his  bone.  When  he  can  lock  it  up,  and  trust 
to  the  sacredness  of  a  lock,  he  has  already  ceased  to  be 
a  savage.  In  a  yet  higher  civilization,  I  presume  we  shall 
once  again  dispense  with  locks  and  keys,  because  we  shall 
have  respect  enough  for  each  other  to  consider  that  all  which 
any  one  wishes  to  keep  to  himself  is  sacred,  even  without  a 
lock.  In  fact,  locks  are  not  now  as  common  as  they  were 
once,  nor  as  elaborate.     In  our  homes  we  do  not  need  them. 

(218) 


POWER   OP   THE   KEYS.  219 

Only  on  front-doors  and  bauk-safes,   and  trunks  when  we 
travel,  and  the  like,  we  use  them. 

Now,  there  is  a  place  which  God  has  locked,  and  for 
which  he  has  provided  the  keys :  it  is  a  place  where  he 
keeps  his  best  treasures.  But  there  is  this  peculiarity  about 
it,  that,  whereas  to  each  of  our  locks  there  is  only  a  single 
kind  of  key,  God's  lock  is  so  made,  that  a  variety  of  keys 
will  open  it. 

This  SECRET  PLACE  OF  THE  Almighty  is  in  the  depths  of 
the  human  soul,  —  the  depths  out  of  which  Ave  cry  to  him. 
It  is  a  place  of  profound  peace  when  storms  rage  above  and 
without.  It  is  a  place  of  perfect  love  when  passions  chase 
each  other,  dark  and  violent,  over  the  surface  of  our  troubled 
life.  It  is  the  '*  kingdom  of  heaven,"  which  Christ  says  is 
within  us ;  the  "  kingdom  of  God,"  which  Paul  says  is 
"righteousness,  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost." 

Christ  gave  to  Peter  and  to  the  apostles  the  keys  to  this 
kingdom  of  heaven.  It  is  usually  supposed  that  this  refers 
to  an  outward  heaven,  to  a  heaven  hereafter  in  the  other 
world.  The  common  Roman  Catholic  idea  is,  that  St.  Peter 
sits  at  an  outward  gate,  with  the  keys  in  his  hand,  and  un- 
locks it  to  the  good,  but  keeps  it  locked  against  the  wicked  ; 
unlocks  it  to  the  Orthodox,  but  keeps  it  locked  against  the 
heterodox  ;  unlocks  it  to  the  members  of  the  true  Church, 
but  keeps  it  locked  against  the  heretics  ;  unlocks  it  to  the 
converted,  but  keeps  it  locked  against  the  unconverted.  But 
it  is  certain  that  the  door  to  any  outward  heaven  lies  through, 
an  inward  heaven.  If  we  do  not  first  enter  "  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  which  is  within  us,"  we  shall  not  enter  any  heaven 
above  us  or  outside  of  us.  It  is  always  so.  We  find  out- 
side of  us  only  that  which  corresponds  to  what  is  within. 
We  feel  outside  that  which  -sve  have  felt  within.  Outward 
knowledge  attaches  itself  to  inward.  An  outward  heaven  is 
for  those  who  have  already  gone  into  an  inward  heaven. 

Three  men  were  riding  on  horseback  through  a  romantic 


220  POWER   OF   THE   KEYS. 

country  on  a  summer's  day.  Their  road  wound  up  to  the 
top  of  a  hill ;  and,  when  they  reached  the  summit,  a  great 
range  of  country  lay  before  them.  They  stopped  to  look  at 
it.  "  How  very  interesting  and  extraordinary  !  "  said  one. 
*'  So  it  is,*'  said  the  others  ;  "  more  so  than  any  place  we 
ever  saw."  "  What  a  splendid  subject  for  a  painting  !  "  said 
the  first.  "  Do  you  see  this  little  hill,  with  its  dark  clump 
of  trees  in  shadow  for  the  foreground  ;  and  that  beautiful 
middle  distance,  with  the  winding  and  reaches  of  the  stream, 
and  the  village  roofs  all  glittering  in  sunlight ;  and  then  that 
exquisite  soft  blue  distance,  and  the  pale  mountains  beyond?" 
''  I  confess,"  said  the  second,  "  I  did  not  see  your  picture  ; 
but  I  was  struck  with  the  extraordinary  geological  character 
of  this  interval,  especially  those  terraces,  one  above  the  other, 
marking  the  heights  at  which  the  river  used  to  stand." 
"And  I,"  said  the  third,  "  noticed  neither  ;  but  I  thought  I 
had  never  seen  a  place  better  adapted  for  a  military  position. 
That  opening  in  the  hills  is  so  defensible  !  those  terraces  are 
so  adapted  for  batteries  !  Nature  has  already  made  the 
works  which  would  require  an  army  working  for  months  to 
erect."  Thus  these  three  gentlemen  —  one  an  artist,  one  a 
geologist,  and  the  third  a  general  — .«aw  in  the  landscape 
what  they  had  in  their  own  minds ;  and  meantime  their 
horses,  I  suppose,  saw  nothing  in  the  valley  but  the  proba- 
bility of  good  pasture,  with  plenty  of  soft  grass. 

Thus  the  outward  heaven  opens  directly  for  every  man 
out  of  his  inward  heaven.  There  is  no  locked  door  between. 
It  is  an  open  way,  directly  in  and  up.  The  moment  we 
enter  the  inward  heaven  in  our  own  soul,  we  are  on  the  way 
to  the  heaven  beyond.  If  the  inward  heaven  is  locked,  then 
the  outward  one  is  locked  too.  If  the  heaven  in  the  soul  is 
not  open,  the  heaven  beyond  is  closed.  If  the  heaven  here 
on  earth  is  bound,  then  that  is  also  bound.  If  this  is  loosed, 
then  that.  Peter,  therefore,  and  the  apostles,  do  not  sit  by 
the   gate   of  any   outward   heaven,  but  by  the  gate  of  the 


POWER   OF   THE   KEYS.  221 

heaven  in  the  soul ;  and  they  hold  the  keys,  and  offer  them 
to  ns.  What  are  they?  How  did  Christ  give  them  to 
Peter  and  to  the  other  apostles? 

Let  us  consider  these  questions  a  little  more  carefully  than 
usual. 

The  Roman  Catholic  Church  says  that  Christ  gave  to  the 
apostle  Peter  the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  I  agree 
that  he  did.  The  Protestant  Church  says  that  he  also  gave 
this  same  power  to  all  the  disciples,  in  that  subsequent  pas- 
sage of  Matthew,  in  which  he  says  to  all  of  them  collectively 
what  he  before  said  to  Peter  individually.  Roman  Catho- 
lics argue  that  the  popes,  being  the  successors  of  Peter, 
inherit  his  power  of  binding  and  loosing.  Protestants  argue 
that  all  Christian  ministers  inherit  the  same  power  from  all 
the  apostles.  I  agree  to  all  this  ;  but  I  believe  still  more 
than  this.  These  theories  do  not  go  far  enough.  Christ 
gave  the  keys  to  Peter  ;  he  gave  the  keys  to  all  the  apostles  ; 
he  gave  the  keys  to  all  the  successors  of  Peier,  and  to  all 
the  successors  of  the  apostles  :  but  he  gave  the  keys  also 
to  all  Christians,  in  all  places,  and  in  all  times  ;  to  all  who 
have  Peter's  faith.  Every  Christian,  in  my  judgment,  has 
the  key  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  and  what  he  binds  on 
earth  is  bound  in  heaven ;  what  he  looses  on  earth  is  loosed 
m  heaven. 

For  what  is  meant  by  "  the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,"  and  by  "binding  and  loosing"?  We  have  here 
three  questions,  concerning  "  the  kingdom  of  heaven,"  con- 
cerning "  the  keys,"  concerning  "  binding  and  loosing." 
Let  us  look  at  each  of  these  questions. 

What  is  meant  by  the  kingdom  of  heaven?  We  have 
already  given  our  answer.  It  is  the  reign  of  God,  first  in 
the  human  heart,  and  then  in  the  human  life ;  the  reign 
of  truth  and  love  ;  the  reign  of  the  Messiah  foretold  by 
the  prophets,  when  men  should  beat  their  sw^ords  into 
ploughshares,    and    when    the    desert    should    rejoice,    and 


222  POWER   OF   THE   KEYS. 

blossom  as  the  rose  ;  it  is  the  reign  of  Christ  here  and 
now ;  it  is  Christianity  in  this  world,  beginning  here, 
continued  hereafter.  The  kingdom  of  heaven,  then,  is 
not  heaven  in  the  other  world,  but  heaven  in  this  world ; 
not  heaven  hereafter,  but  heaven  here.  It  is  true  that  it  is 
continued  into  the  other  world  ;  but  it  begins  in  this  world. 
"When  John  the  Baptist,  when  Christ,  and  when  his  apostles, 
preached,  saying,  "  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand," 
they  meant  a  kingdom  in  this  world.  When  we  pray,  in 
our  daily  prayer,  "  Thy  kingdom  come,"  we  are  praying  for 
it  to  come  here.  In  the  parables  which  compare  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  to  "  leaven,"  to  "  mustard-seed,"  to  "  a  net," 
&c.,  Christianity  in  this  world  is  spoken  of;  and  so,  when 
Christ  speaks  of  the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  it  is  the 
key  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven  in  this  world  which  is  referred 
to.  Heaven  itself  is  the  invisible,  spiritual  world  of  God  ; 
but  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  that  world  descending  into 
this,  God  with  us,  the  tabernacle  of  God  with  men.  The 
kingdom  of  heaven,  therefore,  means  Christianity  here,  or 
Christ  reigning,  first  in  the  heart,  then  in  the  Church,  next 
in  Society,  and  lastly  in  the  State. 

What  are  the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ?  The  keys 
are  the  power  by  which  the  door  into  this  kingdom  shall  be 
opened.  The  kingdom  is  Christianity ;  the  door  is  Christ 
himself;  and  the  key  is  whatever  reveals  Christ  or  opens 
him,  so  that  men  may  pass  through  him  into  Christianity. 
Jesus  says,  "  I  am  the  door.  Through  me,  if  any  man  enter 
in,  he  shall  be  saved,  and  shall  go  in  and  out,  and  find  pasture." 

To  "  bind  and  to  loose "  means  simply  to  open  and  shut 
the  door.  Doors  were  fastened  anciently  by  ropes,  and  the 
key  was  used  to  fasten  and  to  unfasten  them. 

This,  then,  is  the  answer  to  our  three  questions.  The 
kingdom  of  heaven  is  Christianity  ;  the  key  is  that  which 
opens  the  door  of  Christianity  ;  binding  and  loosing  is  open- 
ing or  shutting  thexloor. 


POWER   OF  THE    KEYS.  223 

The  mistake  which  the  Church  has  made  concerning  this 
doctrine  of  the  keys  has  been  to  make  the  power  of  the  keys 
something  arbitrary.  It  has  been  supposed  that  Christ  gave 
to  Peter  the  power  of  deciding,  in  an  arbitrary  way,  as  to 
who  should  be  admitted  into  heaven,  or  excluded  from  it ;  or 
that  he  has  given  to  the  Church  an  arbitrary  power  of  receiv- 
ing members  into  it,  or  excommunicating  them  from  it.  But 
the  power  here  given  is  not  formal,  but  real ;  not  depending 
on  any  man's  will  or  pleasure,  but  fixed  in  the  nature  of 
things.  It  is  a  power  universally  given  to  knowledge  and 
insight.  It  is  "  the  key  of  knowledge."  All  true  insight  is  a 
key,  with  which  to  bind  or  loose,  with  which  to  open  and  shut. 

Two  or  three  thousand  years  before  the  birth  of  Christ, 
the  Valley  of  the  Nile  was  inhabited  by  a  nation  which  had 
carried  all  the  arts  of  life  to  a  high  state  of  perfection.  One 
of  their  habits  was  that  of  writing.  They  kept  a  record  of 
everything.  They  had  a  rage  for  history.  For  thousands 
of  years,  the  whole  nation  kept  a  diary  of  all  events,  great 
and  small.  They  engraved,  and  painted  over,  the  stone 
walls  of  their  pyramids,  temples,  and  tombs,  with  the  most 
multitudinous  details  of  public  and  private  life.  But  what  it 
all  was,  no  one  could  tell.  The  key  had  been  lost.  But  at 
last  Champollion  found  the  key,  and  opened  the  door ;  and 
now  all  men  can  go  in  and  out  amid  that  mysterious  Egyp- 
tian knowledge,  and  understand  it. 

Knowledge  in  the  mind  of  any  one  is  a  key  by  which  he 
can  open  the  door  of  science  or  of  art  to  others.  When  the 
knowledge  is  only  of  facts  or  of  laws,  it  can  be  communi- 
cated without  enthusiasm  or  inspiration.  But  the  higher 
kinds  of  knowledge  require  these.  Spiritual  and  moral 
truth  must  be  taught  in  a  living  way,  not  in  the  letter,  but 
in  the  spirit.  To  bear  witness  to  such  truths  no  hearsay 
information  will  suffice,  but  only  personal  conviction.  Flesh 
and  blood  cannot  reveal  it,  but  only  "  my  Father  which  is  in 
heaven." 


224  POWER   OF   THE   KEYS. 

It  was  this  sort  of  knowledge  concerning  Christ  which 
Peter  at  that  moment  possessed.  He,  like  other  Jews,  was 
expecting  the  Christ  to  come  in  a  grand  outward  way,  with 
pomp  and  power,  with  signs  from  heaven  ;  living  in  Jerusa- 
lem like  a  king  ;  leading  great  armies  against  the  Romans, 
and  driving  them  out,  and  placing  the  Jewish  nation  at  the 
head  of  mankind.  All  at  once,  it  flashed  into  the  soul  of 
Peter  that  this  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  carpenter's  son,  the 
poor  peasant  of  Galilee,  was  the  great  Messiah  who  was  to 
come.  This  holy  love  and  truth  in  him,  this  heavenly  good- 
ness, this  strange  wisdom,  which  moulded  all  minds,  w^as  the 
true  sign  of  his  divinity.  It  was  but  a  momentary  glimpse 
of  the  truth,  but  a  glorious  one.  It  was  swept  away  the 
very  next  moment  by  the  returning  w^ave  of  prejudice  and 
old  opinion  ;  so  that  Jesus  was  obliged,  directly  after,  to  call 
Peter,  Satan.  But  Jesus  beheld  in  this  momentary  insight 
the  germ  of  a  living  faith,  and  said,  "  On  this  rock  wdll  I 
build  my  Church." 

Personal,  living  faith  in  Christ  is  the  key  to  Christianity. 
All  who  have  this  faith,  from  the  pope  in  the  Vatican  to  the 
poorest  slave  on  a  Southern  plantation,  have  the  key  to  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  ;  and  what  they  bind  on  earth  is  bound 
in  heaven,  what  they  loose  on  earth  is  loosed  in  heaven : 
that  is,  when  they  open  the  door,  it  is  opened ;  and  when 
they  shut  the  door,  it  is  shut. 

Any  such  authority  as  this,  if  it  were  arbitrary,  would  be 
dangerous.  We  could  not  trust  any  human  being  with  such 
power,  and  God  would  not  trust  him.  But  the  power  to 
bind  and  loose  is  not  arbitrary.  It  depends  on  no  man's 
will.  It  is  a  power  which  God  gives  of  seeing  and  uttering 
the  truth.  Nor  is  it  confided  to  one  man,  or  to  one  class  of 
men  ;  not  to  bishops,  not  to  priests,  nor  to  ministers.  It  is 
given  to  the  pure  in  heart,  who  see  God  :  the  keys  are  taken 
from  the  hands  of  the  wise  and  the  prudent,  and  given  to  the 
babes.      God    enriches  whom    he  will   with   utterance    and 


POWER   OF  THE   KEYS.  225 

knowledge.  He  reveals  deep  things  by  his  spirit.  He  shows 
his  truth  to  the  humble  and  the  sincere,  and  makes  them  able 
ministers  of  the  new  covenant.  They  are  able,  by  manifes- 
tation of  the  truth,  to  commend  themselves  to  every  man's 
conscience.  God  shines  in  their  hearts,  to  give  the  light  of 
the  knowledge  of  his  glory,  giving  them  the  spirit  of  wisdom 
and  revelation.  Thus  the  power  of  the  keys  is  the  power 
give«Q  to  all  sincere  hearts  to  see  the  truth  and  to  utter  it. 

Thus  we  understand  what  is  meant  by  the  keys  in  regard 
to  opening  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  All  Christians,  when 
they  speak  out  of  their  own  Ciiristian  experience,  open  the 
kingdom  of  heaven.     But  how  do  they  shut  it? 

All  truth  has  two  sides,  positive  and  negative.  It  attracts 
and  repels.  It  draws  men  towards  itself,  or  sends  them  from 
itself.  It  is  a  savor  of  life  or  of  death.  It  distinguishes 
good  from  evil,  truth  from  error,  right  from  wrong.  When 
the  sun  rises,  it  not  only  makes  lights,  but  also  shadows. 
The  side  towards  it  is  in  light :  the  side  turned  away  is  in 
shadow. 

All  divine  offers  are  with  conditions.  Everything  has  its 
price.  The  conditions  are  simple  but  absolute.  An  invita- 
tion may  be  free,  and  yet  conditional.  You  are  freely  invited 
to  a  great  feast ;  but  there  are  conditions  attached  to  the 
invitation.  The  first  is,  that  you  shall  be  willing  to  go,  that 
you  shall  accept  the  invitation  ;  the  second  is,  that  you  shall 
go  at  the  right  time  and  to  the  right  place ;  and  the  third 
condition  is,  that,  when  there,  you  shall  be  dressed  suitably, 
and  behave  properly. 

Christianity,  like  everything  else,  has  its  limitations  and 
its  laws.  "  Except  ye  be  converted,  and  become  as  little 
children,  ye  shall  not  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 
*'  Repent,  and  be  converted,  that  your  sins  may  be  blotted 
out."  '•  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be 
saved."  "  If  we  confess  with  our  mouth  the  Lord  Jesus, 
and  believe  in  our  heart  that  God  has  raised  him  from  the 
lo 


226  POWER    OF   THE   KEYS. 

dead,  we  shall  be  saved."  "  Every  one  that  loveth  is  born 
of  God,  and  knoweth  God."  "  He  that  loveth  not,  knoweth 
not  God  ;  for  God  is  love."  "  If  we  confess  our  sins,  he  is 
iaitliful  and  just  to  forgive  us  our  sins,  and  to  cleanse  us 
Ironi  all  unrighteousness."  Every  one  of  these  conditions  is 
a  key  which  turns  two  ways.  Turn  it  one  way,  it  locks  the 
door ;  turn  it  the  other,  and  it  unlocks  it. 

It  is,  therefore,  easy  to  see  how  every  Christian  has  given 
to  him,  in  his  sight  of  divine  truth,  the  keys  of  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  ;  the  power  to  bind  and  to  loose,  to  open  and  shut ; 
to  judge  th*e  world,  men  and  angels  ;  to  part  the  sheep  from 
the  goats.  Whosesoever  sins  he  remits,  they  are  remitted  ; 
and  whosesoever  sins  he  retains,  they  are  retained.  When 
he  utters  the  truth,  if  men  are  willing  to  accept  it,  they  enter 
the  kingdom  ;  if  unwilling,  they  turn  away.  Every  true 
word  makes  a  parting  of  the  ways  ;  compels  us  to  decide 
which  way  we  will  go,  —  whether  to  the  right,  into  spiritual 
life  ;  or  to  the  left,  into  spiritual  death  ;  and  is,  therefore,  a 
savor  of  life  or  of  death. 

But  liuman  words  have  this  great  power  only  when  they 
are  the  words  of  God,  and  not  ours  ;  only  when  God  speaks 
through  us.  When  they  proceed  from  our  own  will,  they 
are  empty  and  insignificant. 

But  I  have  emphasized  keys^  in  the  plural.  The  text  says 
heys^  in  the  plural ;  and  that  plural  is  significant.  We  are 
apt  to  suppose  that  there  is  only  one.  It  is  very  natural. 
It  is  our  church  ;  it  is  our  creed  ;  it  is  our  experience  ;  that 
is  the  "only  one.  I  recollect  a  young  lady,  wlio,  having  just 
been  proselyted  to  the  Roman  Catliolic  Churcli,  wrote  a  let- 
ter to  a  friend,  describing  her  satisfaction  therein,  and  said, 
"  Believe  me,  true  happiness  and  real  peace  cannot  be  found 
anywhere  else  tlian  in  our  Church."  In  like  manner,  you 
will  hear  those  just  converted  to  some  other  faith  say  the 
same ;  or  rather,  let  me  say,  converted  to  God  by  means  of 
some  other  faith.     I   have  heard   the  same   sort  of  claim 


POWER   OP   THE   KEYS.  227 

made,  with  perfect  sincerity,  for  every  church  and  for  every 
creed.  Each  thinks  the  creed  and  church  by  which  he  has 
found  heaven  to  be  the  only  way  to  heaven.  He  does  not 
know  of  any  other.  I  have  often  thought  that  I  should  like 
to  see  a  book  written,  to  be  called  "  The  Book  of  Converts," 
containing  the  experiences,  given  by  themselves,  of  those 
who  have  been  converted  from  the  Roman  Catholic  Church 
to  the  Protestant,  and  vice  versa;  from  Orthodoxy  to  Uuita- 
rianism  and  to  Universalism,  and  the  contrary  ;  from  Epis- 
copacy to  Quakerism  ;  to  Swedenborgianism  ;  yes,  even  from 
Christianity  to  Infidelity,  as  well  as  from  Infidelity  to  Chris- 
tianity. For,  from  all  these,  you  can  find  perfectly  sincere 
and  honest  statements  of  the  joy  and  peace  they  have  found 
in  their  new  belief  or  unbelief.  And  such  a  book  would  tend 
to  liberalize  the  Church  ;  showing,  first,  that  no  such  con- 
version proved  anything  in  regard  to  the  abstract  truth  of 
the  system  renounced  or  accepted,  because  the  same  comfort 
and  peace  is  found  by  those  going  in  and  those  going  out; 
and  secondly,  that,  by  all  these  various  creeds  and  churches, 
God  does  teach  something  to  the  soul,  and  that  all  these  ex- 
periences are  keys  to  some  one  of  the  many  mansions  in 
God's  heaven.  God  teaches  us  sometimes  even  by  unbelief ; 
and  the  way  to  heaven  may  descend  through  the  dark,  damp 
valley  of  denial  and  doubt,  before  it  ascends  into  the  region 
of  upper  light,  life,  truth,  and  joy.  When  any  one  is  ready 
to  collect  such  a  book  of  experiences  from  such  conversions, 
I  shall  be  glad  to  furnish  a  motto  for  it  out  of  Shakspeare. 
The  motto  is  what  the  melancholy  Jacques  says  at  the  end 
of  "  As  you  Like  It,"  in  regard  to  the  duke :  — 

*'  To  him  will  I :  out  of  these  convertites 

There  is  much  matter  to  be  heard  and  learned." 

Of  these  many  keys,  one  is  faith.  This  is  the  key  which 
Peter  had.  But  what  sort  of  faith?  That  kind,  says  Jesus, 
which  "flesh  and  blood"  does  not  give,  but  my  Father  in 


228  POWER   OF   THE   KEYS. 

heaven.  The  only  faith  which  is  a  key  to  the  kingdom 
within  us  is  that  of"  profound  personal  conviction.  There  are 
two  kinds  :  first,  that  of  hearsay  belief,  which  flesh  and  blood 
gives  us  ;  secondly,  personal  conviction,  or  the  original  sight 
of  truth.  The  first  often  produces  unbelief  instead  of  belief. 
Formal  acceptance  of  hereditary  opinions  is  a  kind  of  dead 
faith  which  is  not  faith.  The  witnesses  in  our  courts  are 
obliged  to  testify  to  what  they  have  seen  themselves  :  all 
hearsay  evidence  is  ruled  out.  I  think  that  God  rules  out 
of  his  courts  all  hearsay  evidence.  I  wish  the  Church  would 
do  the  same.  A  great  amount  of  infidelity  is  produced  by 
the  dead  hearsay  faith  of  Christians.  Every  creed  was  once 
alive.  It  sprang  all  alive  from  the  heart  or  brain  of  some 
earnest  soul,  like  Minerva  from  Jupiter,  all  aglow  with  in- 
spiration ;  but  too  often  it  dies  of  routine. 

The  Church,  frequently,  instead  of  conviction^  seeks  assent. 
An  earnest  seeker,  who  doubts  because  he  is  seeking,  is 
looked  upon  with  fear ;  a  sceptic,  who  is  on  his  way  to  be- 
lief through  doubt,  is  thought  to  be  criminal  in  that ;  a  per- 
son who  loves  truth  so  earnestly  as  not  to  be  satisfied  with 
words  and  phrases,  who  will  not  say  that  he  believes  till  he 
does  believe,  —  to  him  the  Church  turns  the  cold  shoulder. 
But  a  man  who  does  not  care  enough  about  it  to  know 
whether  he  believes  or  not ;  Avho  is  ready  to  accept  thirty- 
nine  articles,  or  three  hundred  and  ninety-nine,  just  as  it 
happens ;  who  in  Catholic  countries  is  ready  to  be  a  Cath- 
olic, and  go  to  mass ;  in  Methodist  countries,  to  shout  and 
sing,  and  cry  glory  ;  who  in  Boston  is  a  Unitarian,  and  in 
Washington  a  Presbyterian,  —  he  is  the  well-beloved  son  of 
the  Church.  The  Ciiurcli,  usually,  is  satisfied  with  assent : 
it  does  not  ask  for  conviction. 

But  all  sincere  conviction  is  a  key  to  open  the  door  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  in  the  soul.  It  leads  us  to  belief  in  the 
reality  of  truth  :  that  is  the  good  it  does.  It  destroys  that 
worst  of  all  scepticisms,  —  doubt  if  anything  be  true  or  right. 


POWER   OP   THE   KEYS.  229 

Again  :  the  Church  is  a  key.  Its  imposing  ceremonies, 
its  solemn  sacraments,  its  majestic  influences,  bring  peace  to 
many  souls,  and  educate  multitudes  to  trust  in  God  and  to 
obedience.  Yet  it  is  the  Church  in  the  Church  which  does 
it.  It  is  not  the  dead  form,  not  the  dead  letter,  but  the  life 
within.  If  the  Church  is  only  a  form  then  it  is  not  a  key. 
But,  as  long  as  you  who  are  worshippers  come  together  with 
serious  hearts,  this  teaches  others ;  and  they  feel  and  say 
that  "  God  is  with  you  of  a  truth."  So  it  was  in  the  early 
Church,  when  "  the  multitude  who  believed  were  of  one 
heart  and  one  soul ;  neither  said  any  of  them  that  aught  that 
he  possessed  was  his  own,  but  they  had  all  things  common." 
Then  "  great  grace  was  upon  them  all ;  "  then  they  "  did  eat 
their  meat  with  gladness  and  singleness  of  heart ;  "  and  then 
"  the  Lord  added  daily  to  the  Church  such  as  were  saved." 

In  the  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  Paul  makes  the  earnest 
utterance  of  the  whole  Church,  the  united  expression  of  their 
honest  convictions,  a  key  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  The 
miraculous  and  wonderful  gift  of  tongues  he  thinks  less  like- 
ly to  convert  men  to  Christianity  than  the  prophecy  or  teach- 
ing of  the  Church.  Prophecy  is  speaking  the  truth  seen  in 
the  heart.  He  says.  If  the  whole  Church  come  together, 
and  all  speak  with  tongues,  and  strangers  come  in,  they  will 
think  you  crazy  :  but  if  you  all  teach,  and  a  stranger  comes 
in,  he  is  convinced  by  what  you  say ;  he  sees  that  you  know 
what  is  in  his  heart ;  he  falls  on  his  face,  and  worships  God, 
and  declares  that  God  is  truly  with  you. 

I  shall  never  forget  an  evening  which  I  passed  in  the 
Cathedral  of  Antwerp,  one  of  the  noblest  of  mediaeval  build- 
ings. 

It  was  Sunday  evening.  I  was  alone  in  the  city  of  Ant- 
werp. I  knew  no  one  in  the  place,  and  no  one  knew  me. 
All  day  long,  I  had  not  spoken  to  a  living  soul.  I  had  been 
visiting  churches,  and  seeing  altar-pieces  ;  but  my  heart  was 
lonely.     In  the  evening,  passing  by  the  great  cathedral,  I 


230  POWER   OF   THE   KEYS. 

saw  a  dim  light  issuing  from  a  doorway.  I  went  in.  One 
part  of  the  vast  nave  was  lighted  by  a  few  candles  hung 
against  the  cokimns.  A  few  hundred  people,  clustered 
around  the  pulpit,  were  listening  to  a  preacher  speaking  in 
Flemisli.  The  light  penetrated  only  a  little  way  through  the 
forest  of  columns  into  the  solemn  darkness  of  the  interior.  I 
took  a  chair,  and  sat  near  the  little  congregatton.  I  under- 
stood scarcely  a  word  of  what  was  said  ;  but  I  felt  earnest- 
ness and  sincerity  in  the  tones  of  the  speaker.  I  .saw  rever- 
ence in  the  faces  of  the  worshippers.  I  was  no  longer  lonely  : 
I  lelt  anion*?  friends.  I  felt  the  human  hearts  beating  around 
me  to  the  same  tone  as  mine  ;  and  I  was  in  communion  with 
tliose  worshippers  and  with  God.  Their  service  was  to  me 
the  key  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

Yet  I  recollect  also  how  once,  in  Nice,  I  found  a  little 
body  of  Protestants  worshipping  in  an  upper  chamber,  with- 
out any  solemn  cathedral,  majestic  music,  or  ancient  cere- 
mony ;  but  in  their  worship,  too,  being  in  spirit  and  truth,  I 
found  a  key  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  I  entered  heaven 
with  them  in  prayer  and  praise,  in  faith  and  gratitude. 

But  it  is  also  true,  that  w'here  two  or  three  meet  in  the 
name  and  spirit  of  Christ,  where  two  or  three  unite  in  any 
Christian  work,  there  is  also  a  door  opening  into  heaven. 
Christ  is  with  them,  as  he  promised  to  be  ;  and  where  he  is, 
there  is  heaven.  Have  we  not  talked  in  days  gone  by  with 
dear  friends,  some  of  whom  have  since  fallen  asleep?  and  as 
we  spoke  of  earnest  themes,  as  we  talked  of  things  divine, 
has  not  Jesus  seemed  to  come  and  walk  with  us,  and  our 
hearts  burn  within  us  with  a  joy  which  was  surely  heavenly, 
and  not  earthly?  And  though  these  dear  friends  leave  us, 
going  on  before  into  tliat  higher  world  where  they  shall  have 
more  of  heaven  than  here,  it  is  yet  the  same  kind  of  heaven 
tiiey  have  had  already.  They  iiave  seen  God  here  :  they 
shall  see  him  more  nearly  there.  They  have  known  Christ : 
they  shall  know  him  more  intimately.     They  have  had  the 


POWER   OF   THE    KEYS.  231 

joy  of  active  usefulness,  of  living  insight,  of  generous  affec- 
tion :  they  shall  have  more  of  it  there,  —  more  to  know, 
more  to  do,  more  to  love. 

Nature  is  also  a  key  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  for  Nature 
is  God  revealing  himself  to  us  in  all  its  majestic  order,  all  its 
boundless  variety,  all  its  transcendent  beauty,  all  its  deep 
peace.  Who  has  not  felt  his  heart  drawn  to  God  by  the 
glory  of  morning,  the  charm  of  evening,  the  solemn  night, 
the  majesty  of  ocean,  the  serenity  of  the  mountain,  the  ten- 
derness of  flowers,  and  the  forest  depths,  full  of  mysterious, 
inexplicable  influences?  "There  are  many  voices  in  the 
world,  and  none  of  them  without  signification." 

God  sometimes  touches  a  hard  heart  with  the  fragrance  of 
a  flower,  or  with  a  melody  reminding  it  of  childhood.  You 
remember  what  Napoleon  said  to  his  marshals,  when  they 
were  sneering  at  his  encouragement  of  the  Catholic  worship  : 
*'  Yesterday  I  was  walking  in  my  garden,  and  I  heard  the 
church-bell  of  Ruel ;  and  involuntarily  I  was  carried  back 
for  a  moment  to  my  innocent  childhood.  Now,  gentlemen, 
if  the  mere  sound  of  a  bell  aflects  thus  a  man  like  me,  such 
a  man  as  I  am,  what  must  be  the  influence  of  such  associa- 
tions on  the  general  mind  ?  " 

How  often  does  God  send  trial  and  sorrow  as  keys  to  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  !  If  even  Jesus  learned  obedience  by 
the  things  he  suffered,  if  even  that  pure  soul  went  deeper 
into  the  love  of  God  by  the  path  of  trial,  if  he  could  only  be- 
come 'perfect  through  suffering,  let  us  not  murmur  at  our 
trials,  which  are  sent  to  us  that  we  may  be  partakers  of  the 
holiness  of  God. 

Sometimes  little  children  come  to  us,  bringing  in  their  little 
hands  the  keys  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  The  man  whose 
heart  was  perhaps  growing  hard  in  the  struggle  of  life  ;  who, 
unconsciously,  was  becoming  worldly  ;  whose  face,  practised 
in  meeting  men,  was  gradually  becoming  rigid  in  its  out- 
lines ;  whose  keen  eye  was  losing  its  tenderness,  —  has  had 


232  POWER   OF   THE   KEYS. 

sent   to   him   these    sweet    little    angels    as    a    voice   from 

God:  — 

"  Trailing  clouds  of  glory  do  they  come 
Erom  heaven,  which  is  their  home." 

His  heart  grows  young  again  with  them  ;  his  soul  is  soft- 
ened by  their  infantile  caresses  ;  his  life  is  checked  in  its 
tendency  ;  and  they  lead  him  to  his  Father  and  theirs.  Na- 
ture's priesthood,  these  little  children,  in  their  innocence  and 
simplicity,  are  evermore  bringing  back  the  hearts  of  fathers 
and  mothers  into  a  more  simple  and  childlike  trust  and  joy. 
Coming  to  us,  they  bring  the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
Going  from  us,  they  unlock  those  sacred  doors  ;  and  we,  in 
our  bereavement,  find  our  hearts  drawn  up  after  them  to 
God.  The  heavens,  into  which  they  have  gone,  remain 
open  ;  and  the  fragrance  and  melody  of  that  upper  world 
come  down  to  us  here,  and  never  leave  us  again. 

Thus  God  gives  into  our  hands  the  keys  with  which  we 
may  open  heaven  to  others.  Not  to  Peter  alone,  not  to  the 
apostles  alone,  but  to  all  of  us,  he  says,  "  What  ye  hind  on 
earth  shall  be  bound  in  heaven  ;  what  ye  loose  on  earth  shall 
be  loosed  in  heaven."  Whenever  we  are  faithful  to  our  con- 
victions, true  to  the  light  God  shows  to  us,  unselfish  and 
generous,  then  we  open  the  gateway  of  heaven  to  those  who 
are  with  us.  Whenever  we  are  selfish  and  unbelieving  and 
hard,  we  shut  the  gateway.  The  spirit  we  are  in  inevitably 
communicates  itself  even  by  our  voice  and  tone,  and  preaches 
to  others  truth,  generosity,  humility,  faith,  or  preaches  unbe- 
lief, selfishness,  doubt,  despair.  Influence  falls  from  us,  at 
every  moment,  for  good  or  evil.  We  say,  by  our  state  of 
mind,  that  there  is  something  real  in  truth,  in  virtue,  in 
love  ;  that  immortality  is  not  a  dream  ;  that  heaven  is  close 
at  hand  ;  that  life  is  rich  in  great  opportunities.  We  say 
this  every  moment,  when  we  Jire  in  a  right  state  of  mind  ; 
and,  in  saying  this,  we  unlock  heaven  to  others,  and  lead 
them  in.     Or  we  say  to  others,  by  our   formality,  by  our 


POWER   OF  THE   KEYS.  233 

coldness,  by  our  self-seeking,  that  religion  is  empty  ;  that 
Christianity  is  only  a  name  ;  that  life  is  a  weariness  ;  that 
all  things  are  vanity  ;  that  love  is  an  illusion  ;  that  the  gos- 
pel is  a  cheat  and  a  lie.  And,  saying  this,  we  lock  the  doors 
of  heaven  ;  we  turn  away  from  God  those  who  are  seeking 
him  ;  we  make  infidels  and  sceptics  ;  we  corrupt  innocent 
and  childlike  hearts  by  our  worldliness.  Such  eternal  con- 
sequences follow  our  trivial  earthly  action.  So  it  is,  that 
what  we  bind  on  earth  is  bound  in  heaven  ;  that  what  we 
loose  on  earth  is  loosed  in  heaven. 

Let  us  thank  God  that  there  are  many  keys  by  which  to 
open  the  blessed  door  which  leads  into  the  heavenly  king- 
dom. To  one  the  door  is  opened  in  childhood ;  and  the 
dear  little  feet  go  in,  and  the  small  curly  head  is  already 
surrounded  with  the  pure  glory  of  a  light  beaming  from  the 
presence  of  God.  Another,  in  youth,  drops  the  trivialities 
and  follies  of  youth,  and  lifts  deep,  earnest  eyes  towards  the 
great  truths  of  life  and  time,  of  death  and  eternity.  One 
enters  the  kingdom  by  faithful  work  :  loyalty  to  duty  unlocks 
the  door,  and  he  goes  in.  One  finds  the  key  through  temp- 
tation, sorrow,  sin,  remorse,  penitence,  turning  to  God  in 
hopeless  shame,  but  meeting  hope  and  unexpected  joy  shed 
abroad  in  his  heart.  One  rises  from  the  bed  of  sickness  with 
all  of  his  past  life  closed  behind  him ;  and  a  new  life,  filled 
with  purer  hopes,  opening  upward  into  heaven.  One  is 
moved  by  the  noble  words,  the  holy  life,  and  the  rapt  enthu- 
siasm of  the  saints  and  martyrs,  by  the  utterings  of  genius 
and  the  eloquence  of  fiery  hearts  ;  and  follows,  with  enthusi- 
astic love,  their  pathway,  till  they  lead  him  to  the  mountain- 
heights  of  holy  truth.  The  words  of  a  dear  mother,  the 
loving  kiss  of  a  dying  child,  the  never-fading  remembrance 
of  a  departed  friend,  of  a  noble  and  generous  sister  or  brother 
gone  before  us  to  God,  raise  some  of  us  above  ourselves. 
Such  are  the  multitudinous  paths  which  lead  us  to  God;  so 
we  come,  at  last,  to  Christ,  the  image  of  the  invisible  God. 


234  POWER   OF  THE   KEYS. 

The  air  of  heaven,  even  here,  begins  to  fan  our  heated  brow  ; 
the  music  of  heaven  comes  softly  down,  mingling  with  our 
daily  life  ;  the  light  of  the  upper  world  shines  down  into  our 
poor  human  hearts.  God  be  blessed  for  it  all,  —  for  all  the 
sorrow,  all  the  joy,  all  the  experience  of  good  and  evil,  light 
threads  and  dark  threads  shooting  to  and  fro  across  the  web 
of  human  life  !  Brothers  and  sisters,  —  dear  friends  of  mine, 
fellow-workers  in  this  wonderful  world,  —  let  us  be  fellow- 
helpers  through  it,  till  we  meet  on  that  higher  shore,  in  that 
larger  liberty,  and  with  that  fuller  peace  of  rest  and  action, 
which  remains  for  God's  children,  beyond  the  low-arched 
gateway  that  mortals  call  death. 


XXI. 

THE  PROPER  AND  THE  BECOMING. 

Matt.   iii.   15 :    "  Thus  it   becometh  us  to  fulfil  all    right- 
eousness." 

WHEN  Jesns  went  to  Bethabara  to  be  baptized,  Jolm 
the  Baptist  refused  to  baptize  him.  John  said,  "  I 
have  need  to  be  baptized  of  thee  ;  and  comest  thou  to  me  ?  " 
John  had  a  profound  feeling  of  the  holiness  and  grandeur  of 
Jesus.  They  were  cousins ;  they  had  known  each  other  as 
children,  known  each  other  in  youth  ;  and  John  felt  that 
Jesus  was  so  much  holier  and  better  than  himself,  that  he 
was  not  fit  to  baptize  him.  Then  Jesus  made  this  answer  : 
"  Suffer  it  to  be  so  now:  thus  it  becometh  us  to  fulfil  all 
righteousness."  What  did  he  mean  by  it?  Why  was  it  be- 
coming in  him  to  do  this? 

There  seemed  to  be  no  good  reason  why  Christ  should  be 
baptized.  The  usual  reasons  do  not,  apparently,  apply  to 
Jesus.  Many  came  to  John  because  they  thought  him  a 
very  holy  man,  whose  blessing  would  help  them  in  some 
mysterious,  perhaps  magical  way.  This  was  not  the  reason 
of  Jesus  ;  for  there  is  a  slight  tinge  of  superstition  in  this 
motive.  Jesus  did  not  expect  to  be  made  better  by  being 
touched  by  John's  hands.  Others  came  to  John  from  a 
moral  motive :  came  as  sinners  to  confess  their  sin,  to  re- 
pent of  it,  to  inaugurate  a  new  life  better  than  the  old  one. 
This  was  not  the  motive  of  Jesus  :  he  needed  not  to  repent, 
confess,  or  reform.     He  was  free  from  sin,  and  needed  no 

(235) 


236        THE  PROPER  AND  THE  BECOMING. 

baptism  to  repentance.  Another  object  of  baptism  is  initia- 
tion. Proselytes  were  admitted  into  the  Jewish  Church  by 
baptism  ;  catechumens  are  admitted  into  the  Christian  Church 
by  baptism.  This  was  not  Christ's  object.  He  did  not 
come  to  John  to  be  admitted  into  the  number  of  his  disci- 
ples. Some  say  that  he  was  baptized  as  a  consecration  to 
his  office  ;  as  an  act  of  self-dedication  to  the  work  of  the 
Messiah.  This  could  hardly  be,  since  he  did  not  mean  to  be 
known  as  the  Messiah  until  long  after. 

The  only  reason  which  Jesus  had  for  being  baptized  seems 
to  be  the  one  which  he  gives  in  our  text.  It  was  becoming. 
It  was  not  necessary  for  himself,  nor  for  others  ;  it  was  not 
a  baptism  of  repentance,  nor  of  initiation,  nor  of  dedication. 
It  was  simply  hecoming ;  that  is,  handsome,  suitable,  in 
accordance  with  the  circumstances,  in  harmony  with  the 
state  of  things.  There  was  moral  grace  and  beauty  in  it. 
That  was  all ;  but  that  was  enough. 

For  in  human  actions,  besides  the  element  of  necessity,  of 
expediency,  of  duty,  there  is  also  the  element  of  beauty. 
Some  actions  are  morally  beautiful,  and  are  to  be  done  for 
that  reason.  Such  was  that  act  of  the  woman  in  the  gospel, 
who  brought  her  alabaster  box  of  precious  ointment  to 
Jesus,  and  anointed  his  feet  therewith.  There  was  no  utility 
about  it :  it  did  no  good,  in  any  common  sense.  But  it  was 
''  becoming ; "  it  was  beautiful ;  it  expressed  her  intimate 
convictions,  her  love,  her  reverence,  her  devotion.  Any- 
thing which  thus  beautifully  expresses  a  true  and  noble  senti- 
ment is  hecoming ;  and,  because  it  is  becoming,  it  is  right. 
When  David  loufjed  for  the  *'  water  of  the  well  of  Bethle- 
hem, which  is  by  the  gate,"  and  his  three  mighty  men  brake 
through  the  enemy's  ranks  and  procured  it  for  him,  and  he 
would  not  drink  it,  but  poured  it  on  the  ground,  saying,  "  Is 
not  this  the  blood  of  the  men  who  went  in  jeopardy  of  their 
lives  ?  "  that  was  not  a  very  reasonable  action  ;  there  was 
no  use  in  wasting  the  good  water  which  they  all  needed ;  but 


THE   PROPER    AND   THE   BECOIMING.  237 

it  was  a  very  hecoming  action.  Many  actions  are  good 
because  they  are  becoming,  and  for  no  other  reason  ;  actions 
which  political  economy  and  utilitarian  morality  would  quite 
condemn.  A  clergyman  in  this  city  once  declined  an  in- 
crease of  salary.  Twenty  good  reasons  can  be  given  why 
he  ought  not  to  have  refused  it :  nevertheless,  it  was  a  he- 
coming  action.  It  had  a  moral  beauty  about  it :  no  one  can 
deny  that.  A  butcher  in  Boylston  Market  declined^selling  a 
piece  of  meat  to  a  United  States  commissioner  who  had  re- 
turned a  fugitive,  telling  him  that  his  money  was  "  base 
money."  So  I  knew  a  clergyman  who  sent  back  a  part  of 
his  salary  which  had  come  from  rum-sellers.  Both  of  these 
actions  have  moral  beauty,  as  expressive  of  strong  convic- 
tions of  right,  though  they  may  both  tie  quite  open  to  objec- 
tions on  the  side  of  political  economy  or  utility. 

But,  before  going  farther,  let  us  stop  a  little,  and  analyze 
this  term  "  becoming,"  and  see  precisely  what  it  means. 
The  Greek  word  n()i7T0),  —  to  -jiQinov^  —  is  used  in  half  a 
dozen  places  in  the  New  Testament,  and  always  with  the 
same  sense.  In  one  place  it  is  translated  "  comely  ;  "  in  all 
other  places,  *•'  becoming."  Now,  the  "  becoming  "  or 
"  comely "  is  that  which  comes  to  a  thing  ;  which  suits  it ; 
which  is  fit,  suitable,  congruous,  in  harmony  with  it.  The 
harmonies  of  time,  place,  circumstance,  are  conveyed  by  this 
term ;  and  the  English  word  hints  at  a  law  of  Nature,  a  law 
of  attraction  which  a  thing  exercises  over  other  things  that 
suit  it,  and  are  in  harmony  with  it,  so  that  they  come  to  it. 
Like  draws  like  :  so  harmonious  persons,  actions,  and  quali- 
ties come  together.  Perhaps  this  law  includes  that  which 
causes  planets  to  gravitate  to  their  sun,  and  that  which 
causes  crystals  to  be  elaborated  slowly,  through  thousands  of 
years,  in  the  depths  of  the  earth,  —  includes  the  chemical 
affinities  which  mingle  and  arrange  the  elements  of  earth  ; 
the  law  which  makes  seeds  and  plants  to  move  towards  the 
light  and  the  moisture  ;  which  occasions  society  to  organize 


238  THE  PROPER   AND   THE   BECOMING. 

itself  in  families,  friendships,  ncighborlioods,  and  states ; 
which  causes  truth,  holy  and  sacred,  to  be  felt  in  the  depths 
of  the  soul ;  which  makes  the  reason  respond  to  it,  the  con- 
science move  to  it,  the  heart  cleave  to  it ;  which,  in  fine, 
causes  man  to  worship  God,  and  to  serve  his  neighbor,  be- 
cause he  was  made  for  this  piety  and  charity,  and  because  it 
salts  his  noblest  instincts  so  to  do.  So  the  world  becomes  a 
kosmos,  .a  beauty,  when  every  part  of  it  is  filled  with 
harmony. 

And  why  was  it  becoming  in  Jesus  to  be  baptized  by 
John?  In  two  ways,  —  as  a  testimony  to  John  ;  and  as  an 
expression  of  his  own  inward  purpose. 

John  was  a  true  and  a  noble  character ;  faithful  and 
strong  as  steel ;  ready  to  act  and  to  bear  for  what  he 
thought  the  truth.  Jesus,  in  coming  to  be  baptized  by  him, 
took  sides  with  him ;  showed  that  he  believed  him  in  the 
main  to  be  right ;  manifested  his  sympathy  with  him  ;  ap- 
proved of  his  work ;  showed  a  modest  willingness  to  receive 
all  he  had  to  give.  This  was  a  becoming  act  in  Jesus  ;  and 
it  is  always  a  sign  of  true  greatness  and  nobleness  thus  to 
recognize  desert,  and  bear  a  willing  testimony  to  it.  Not 
that  John  the  Baptist  had  not  great  faults  :  but  he  was  a 
noble  person,  and  doing  a  right  work  ;  and  Jesus,  instead  of 
any  captious  criticism  of  his  manner  of  acting,  took  openly 
his  side. 

When  a  great  controversy  is  going  on,  in  which  great  prin- 
ciples of  truth,  justice,  liberty,  are  involved,  the  noble- 
minded  man  wishes  to  act  as  Jesus  acted ;  openly  to  take 
sides  with  those  who  are,  in  the  main,  in  the  right.  A 
small-minded  man,  on  the  contrary,  prefers  to  find  petty 
faults,  and  refuses  to  cooperate,  because  some  things  are  said 
or  done  which  he  thinks  in  bad  taste  or  bad  temper. 

Wiien  ideas  and  principles  are  on  one  side,  and  what  we 
consider  culture,  taste,  gentlemanly  conduct,  on  the  otiier, 
some  persons  take  the  latter ;  but  the  highest  souls  choose 
the  former. 


THE  PROPER  AND  THE  BECOMING.        239 

Some  years  ago,  in  those  days  we  all  remember,  when  the 
abolitionists  were  very  odious  in  Boston,  the  Governor  of  the 
State  recommended  to  the  Legislature  to  pass  a  law  to  punish 
the  writing  and  printing  of  what  were  called  incendiary  pub- 
lications. The  abolitionists  asked  to  be  heard  in  opposition 
to  the  passage  of  this  law.  A  hearing  was  granted  them  ; 
and  Mr.  Garrison,  Dr.  Follen,  and  others,  appeared  before 
the  committee  to  argue  against  the  proposed  law.  While 
the  argument  was  going  on,  the  door  of  the  room  opened, 
and  Dr.  Channing  appeared  in  the  entrance.  He  was  then 
at  the  height  of  his  fame,  the  most  conspicuous  citizen  of 
Boston,  —  having  achieved  a  European  reputation,  and  receiv- 
ing visits  every  week  from  distinguished  foreigners.  Look- 
ing around  the  room,  he  discovered  where  Mr.  Garrison  was 
seated,  —  at  that  time,  probably,  the  most  unpopular  and 
odious  person  in  the  State.  Passing  by  the  dignified  repre- 
sentatives and  respectable  citizens  present.  Dr.  Channing 
Avent  up  to  Mr.  Garrison,  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  took  a 
seat  by  his  side.  In  doing  so,  he  seems  to  me,  unconsciously 
perhaps,  to  have  followed  the  example  of  Jesus  Christ  in 
the  case  before  us.  Dr.  Channing  and  Mr.  Garrison  dilFered 
from  each  other  in  many  respects,  and  Mr.  Garrison  had  not 
been  sparing  of  his  criticism  of  Dr.  Chanuing's  views  ;  but, 
feeling  a  profound  sympathy  with  the  main  purpose  and  con- 
viction which  animated  this  reformer.  Dr.  Clianning  would 
not  allow  any  minor  differences,  in  matters  of  opinion  or  of 
taste,  to  prevent  him  from  bearing  his  testimony  to  the 
essential  justice  of  the  cause.  When  an  attempt  was  to  be 
made  to  crush  freedom  of  speech  in  Massachusetts,  and  to 
silence  the  voice  which  claimed  liberty  for  the  captive, 
Channing  deemed  it  becoming  to  take  his  place  by  the  side 
of  this  champion  of  the  slave. 

But  almost  every  good  thing  has  its  counterfeit,  and  so 
the  becoming  has  its  counterfeit.  The  counterfeit  of  the 
becoming  is  the  proper.     The  morally  beautiful  is  replaced 


240        THE  PROPER  AND  THE  BECOMING. 

by  the  conventionally  correct.  Propriety  is  a  kind  of  minor 
morality,  and  governs  society  in  social  life,  as  public  opinion 
governs  it  in  public  life.  Thus  mothers  say  to  their  chil- 
dren, "  You  must  not  do  that,  my  dear."  "  Why  not, 
mamma?"  "Because  it  is  not  proper,  my  child."  This 
argument  is  deemed  final  and  unanswerable. 

The  most  becoming  things  are  not  always  the  most  proper 
things  ;  for  they  arc  apt  to  be  violations  of  etiquette.  It 
was  becoming  of  Jesus  to  be  baptized  ;  but  it  was  hardly 
proper.  John  was  not  a  fit  person,  in  the  view  of  pro- 
priety, to  keep  company  with,  —  a  mere  fanatic  ;  a  man  liv- 
ing in  the  wilderness ;  living  on  locusts  and  wild  honey,  and 
dressed  not  in  soft  raiment  or  broadcloth.  He  had  a  devil, 
so  they  said ;  was  evidently  crazy ;  was  a  mere  enthusiast, 
if  he  was  not  an  impostor.  He  probably  wanted  an  office ; 
or,  at  any  rate,  was  preaching  doctrines  which  led  directly  to 
riots  and  insurrections.  He  did  not  speak  at  all  respectfully 
of  the  dignitaries  and  distinguished  people.  He  called  the 
scribes  and  Pharisees  "  serpents "  and  "  a  generation  of 
vipers  ; "  though  they  w^ere,  in  fact,  the  chief  people  in  Jeru- 
salem. Under  these  circumstances,  propriety  evidently  for- 
bade Jesus  from  giving  him  any  countenance :  but  it  was 
becoming,  nevertheless,  to  go  and  share  his  unpopularity, 
and  partake  his  odium  ;  and  so  Jesus  went. 

The  sources  of  the  proper  and  the  becoming  are  different. 
That  which"  is  becoming  flows  from  an  instinctive  perception 
of  what  is  morally  beautiful.  It  leads  us  to  fulfil  all  right- 
eousness ;  for  it  penetrates  to  small  things.  It  makes  life 
graceful  and  gracious  by  the  multitude  of  little  acts  and 
words  of  kindness  which  it  inspires.  It  is  an  invisible  spirit 
of  sympathy,  faith,  reverence,  and  modesty,  which  informs 
the  manners,  and  makes  one  courteous,  taking  out  of  life 
whatever  is  harsh  and  hard. 

Seek,  therefore,  that  which  is  becoming  rather  than  that 
whicli  is  only  proper,  for  the  becoming  includes  the  proper, 


THE  PROPER  AND  THE  BECOMING.  241 

but  not  the  reverse.  That  which  is  truly  becoming  may 
indeed  not  always  appear  proper,  though  in  the  highest  sense 
it  may  be  so  :  for  the  proper  means  only  that  which  is  cus- 
tomary, or  which  other  people  do  ;  but  the  hecoming  is  that 
which  is  suitable  to  present  circumstances  and  present  needs, 
whether  it  has  ever  been  done  before  or  not. 

Many  things  which  Christ  and  his  disciples  did  seemed 
highly  improper  to  the  Pharisees,  who  were  men  of  religious 
punctilio  and  etiquette.  They  did  not  think  it  proper  that 
he  should  cure  a  sick  man  on  the  Sabbath,  or  that  his  disci- 
ples should  pluck  ears  of  corn  on  that  day.  They  thought  it 
improper  for  the  disciples  not  to  fast,  and  still  more  improper 
that  they  should  sing  hosanuas  on  his  entrance  into  Jeru- 
salem. To  drive  the  buyers  and  sellers  out  of  the  temple 
was  not  proper ;  and  it  was  by  no  means  proper  to  call  the 
Pharisees  serpents,  and  a  generation  of  vipers.  But,  though 
these  things  were  improper  in  view  of  religious  pedantry, 
they  were  highly  suitable  under  the  circumstances,  and 
therefore  were  becoming.  For  as  propriety,  based  upon  cus- 
tom, is  the  highest  law  of  conventionalism,  so  the  becoming, 
founded  on  the  harmony  of  things,  is  the  largest  and  highest 
law  of  realities. 

When  Wesley  began  his  great  work,  which  revived  the 
decaying  religious  life  in  the  English  nation,  his  course  in 
many  respects  was  thought  very  improper.  In  those  days  of 
drunken  curates  and  fox-hunting  rectors,  when  Paley  had  to 
advise  the  clergy  not  to  drink  and  play  cards  in  ale-houses, 
it  shocked  all  England  to  hear  of  lay-preaching  and  services 
in  the  open  air.  I  know  not  a  more  striking  scene  than  that 
of  John  Wesley  preaching  at  Epworth,  in  the  churchyard,  in 
the  evening  twilight,  standing  on  his  father's  tomb,  when  he 
was  shut  out  of  his  father's  church.  "  They  accuse  us," 
said'he,  "of  indecorum,  because  we  preach  in  the  open  air. 
I  go  into  their  churches,  and  find  drowsy  congregations  and 
sleepy  preachers :  in  that  I  see  indecorum.  But  I  have 
16 


242       THE  PROPER  AND  THE  BECOMING. 

preached  on  the  hill-side  to  many  thousand  people,  who  were 
so  attentive,  that  when  a  wall  fell  down,  upon  which  a  great 
many  people  were  sitting,  it  made  no  disturbance  in  the 
congregation." 

Propriety  in  the  pulpit  is  not  always  equivalent  to  what  is 
becoming  therein.  If  a  minister  wishes  to  do  Avhat  is  proper 
in  the  pulpit,  he  can  very  easily  accomplish  that  task.  All  he 
has  to  do  is  to  keep  in  the  line  of  safe  precedents,  and  do  as 
others  have  done  already.  He  may  defend  with  some  energy 
all  the  accepted  and  popular  opinions  of  his  Church  ;  he  may 
wax  warm  against  heretics,  and  may  even  be  slightly  and 
handsomely  severe  in  speaking  of  them.  He  may  also  con- 
demn as  strongly  as  he  will  the  Jewish  scribes  and  Pharisees. 
He  may  be  sarcastic  against  Pontius  Pilate.  He  may  de- 
nounce Roman  Catholics  and  Infidels  ;  and  may  say  almost 
anything  he  chooses  against  Hume,  Voltaire,  and  Rousseau. 
But  let  him  beware  how  he  censures  the  vices  of  his  own 
time  and  his  own  community.  He  may  show  the  people  the 
sins  of  their  grandfathers,  and  they  will  listen  ;  but,  if  he 
tries  to  show  their  own  sins,  some  will  always  say  it  is 
improper  to  do  so.  Taking  a  man  from  Africa  to  make  a 
slave  of  him,  he  may  call  piracy  ;  but  taking  a  man  from 
Boston  to  make  a  slave  of  him,  he  must  not  call  kidnapping : 
if  he  does,  some  alderman  will  walk  out  of  church.* 

Amasis,  King  of  Egypt,  whose  story  is  told  us  by  He- 
rodotus, seems  to  have  been  a  wiser  man  than  many  of 
these  discontented  parishioners.  Before  he  became  king, 
he  was  disposed  to  pilfer ;  and,  when  accused  of  taking 
people's  property,  he  would  appeal  to  the  oracle  of  the 
place,  which  would  sometimes  acquit  and  sometimes  con- 
demn him.  AVhen,  therefore,  he  became  king,  he  paid 
no  attention  to  the  gods  and  oracles  that  had  acquitted 
him^  nor  contributed  to  liieir  temples  ;  considering  them  of 

*  This  sermon  was  preached  in  the  bad  days  of  1851.  Since  then 
what  a  change ! 


THE  PROPER  AND  THE  BECOMING.        243 

no  consequence,  and  as  lying  oracles.  But  to  such  as  con- 
victed him  of  theft  he  paid  the  highest  respect,  considering 
them  as  truly  gods  and  truth-tellers  ;  for  of  what  use  are 
gods  and  pulpits  that  do  not  tell  us  the  truth? 

But  I  consider  nothing  more  hecoming  in  the  pulpit  than  to 
speak  the  truth,  —  simple,  pure,  plain  truth.  It  might  have 
been  quite  improper  in  Nathan  to  rebuke  the  great  King 
David,  and  to  be  guilty  of  the  personality  of  saying,  "  Thou 
art  the  man  !  "  but  it  was  hecoming.  It  was  no  doubt  thought 
very  improper  in  Jesus  to  drive  the  money-changers  out  of 
the  temple,  and  to  say  harsh  things  about  those  highly  re- 
spectable people,  the  scribes  and  Pharisees.  It  was  not 
proper  for  Luther  to  burn  the  pope's  bull,  for  Horace  Mann 
to  expose  the  iniquities  of  slavery,  or  for  John  Pierpont  to 
set  forth  the  miseries  and  woes  which  come  from  making 
and  selling  rum.  These  things  were  not  thought  proper ; 
for  you  will  observe,  that,  of  all  sticklers  for  propriety,  those 
are  the  chief  who  make  gain  by  any  sort  of  wrong-doing. 

Nations,  as  Avell  as  individuals,  can  do  that  which  is 
hecoming^  sometimes  transcending  the  limits  of  utilitarian 
prudence  and  propriety.  When,  in  the  Irish  famine,  the 
ship  "Jamestown"  crossed  the  ocean  to  carry  food,  political 
economy  might  not  wholly  approve  it ;  but  surely  it  was 
noble  and  becoming.  And  when  the  English  nation,  on  the 
1st  of  August,  1838,  emancipated  eight  hundred  thousand 
slaves,  and  gave  a  hundred  millions  of  dollars  to  compensate 
their  masters,  it  was  not  wise,  perhaps,  in  the  sense  of 
political  economy  ;  but  it  was  wise  in  the  wisdom  of  heavenly 
truth  and  justice. 

When  Florence  Nightingale  found  that  the  food  and  com- 
forts  destined  for  the  sick  soldiers  were  kept  locked  up  and 
unused,  because  no  one  knew  who  had  authority  to  dispense 
til  em,  she  ordered  the  doors  to  be  broken  open,  and  the  pro- 
visions to  be  taken  to  the  hospital.  That  was  certainly 
improper  :  it  was  also  certainly  becoming. 


244        THE  PROPER  AND  THE  BECOMING. 

It  sometimes  t«ikes  a  high  soul  and  a  great  nature  to  ele- 
vate the  thing  which  is  improper,  and  to  make  it  becoming. 
AVhat  more  improper  than  for  Joan  of  Arc  to  ride  in  man's 
clothes  at  the  head  of  an  army,  and  offer  herself  to  lead  sol- 
diers into  battle?  yet  the  act,  so  evidently  improper,  is  the 
most  beautiful  event  in  the  history  of  a  thousand  years.  Yet 
to  imitate  that  act  would  require  another  soul  as  pure  and 
brave  as  hers. 

The  becoming  flows,  as  we  have  seen,  from  an  instinctive 
perception  of  what  is  morally  beautiful.  It  leads  us  to  fulfil 
all  righteousness  ;  it  penetrates  to  small  things  ;  small  acts 
and  words  of  kindness  flow  out  of  it ;  it  makes  life  graceful 
and  gracious  ;  it  is  an  invisible  spirit  of  sympathy,  of  love, 
of  faith,  of  hope,  of  reverence,  of  modesty,  of  joy,  which  in- 
forms the  manners,  and  makes  one  gentle,  courteous,  and 
kind  ;  taking  out  of  life  all  that  is  harsh  and  hard. 

Instead,  therefore,  of  aiming  at  what  is  proper,  aim  at 
what  is  becoming. 

As  regards  children,  what  is  becoming  in  them  is  to  have 
a  spirit  of  reverence  and  of  confidence  conjoined  ;  a  spirit 
which  respects  parents,  teachers,  superiors  ;  which  rever- 
ences all  that  is  above  them,  but  is  not  checked  in  that 
charming  confidence  and  freedom  which  makes  the  grace  of 
childhood.  Instead  of  surrounding  them  with  bristling  pro- 
prieties, show  them  how  to  respect  others  ;  and  teach  them 
to  be  simple,  sincere,  and  truthful  themselves.  These  two 
graces  are  natural  to  childhood :  only  let  them  not  be 
repressed. 

In  young  men,  the  spirit  which  makes  the  becoming  is  a 
spirit  of  modesty  and  manliness,  which,  when  combined, 
form  the  elements  of  moral  beauty,  —  a  modesty  which 
avoids  conceit,  arrogance,  and  pretension  ;  and  a  manliness 
which  is  ready  to  do  its  work  bravely,  and  to  take  hold  of 
life  with  courage  and  self-reliance. 

In  young  women,  the  becoming  spirit  is  the  same.     We 


THE  PROPER  AND  THE  BECOMING.       245 

wish  to  see  in  them  freshness  of  thought,  and  openness  of 
manner ;  we  wish  to  see  also  the  spirit  of  respect  and  con- 
sideration for  all  that  is  around  them.  The  charm  of 
womanhood  is  this  combination  of  expansive  sympathies  and 
fresh  impulses,  with  quick  consideration  for  the  feelings  and 
rights  of  all  others. 

In  all  we  do,  the  becoming^  the  beautiful,  that  element 
which  makes  heroes  in  heroic  times,  and  gives  romantic 
beauty  to  life,  is  the  spirit  of  reverence  and  the  spirit  of 
freedom.  Life  is  full  of  awe  and  mystery.  God,  the  Eter- 
nal and  Infinite,  is  always  near.  Death  surrounds  us  and 
attends  us  ;  the  inscrutable  mysteries  of  a  great  hereafter 
are  always  close  at  the  door.  Therefore  reverence  and 
religious  awe  are  becoming  to  man ;  reverence  for  God's 
presence  everywhere,  —  for  Him  who  filleth  all  in  all.  No 
one  but  respects  the  man  who  respects  God ;  no  one  but 
sees  the  beauty  of  the  truly  i^eligious  character.  The  reli- 
gion of  propriety  and  of  usage  is  cold  and  cheerless  :  but  the 
religion  which  sees  the  wonders  and  glories  of  eternity  gleam- 
ing ever  through  the  portals  of  time  —  this  commands  the 
respect  of  all ;  is  felt  to  be  comely,  heroic,  and  admirable. 

''  It  becometh  us  to  fulfil  all  righteousness  ;  "  to  respect 
every  manifestation  of  the  truly  religious  life  ;  to  give  our 
testimony  to  all  parts  of  Christian  faith  and  action  ;  but  espe- 
cially to  live  in  that  spirit  of  mingled  reverence  and  freedom 
which  shall  enable  us  to  comply  with  propriety  or  to  tran- 
scend propriety  ;  always  to  live  near  to  God  ;  and  always  to 
do  that,  and  speak  that,  which  is  beautiful,  gracious,  and  of 
good  report. 


XXII. 

THE  FAVORITE  TEXTS  OF  JESUS. 
Luke  iv.  17:  "He  opened  the  book,  and  found  the  place." 

WHEN  you  read  an  interesting  book,  it  becomes  more 
interesting  if  you  find  that  some  one  whom  you  love 
and  respect  has  read  it  before  you,  and  has  marked,  here  and 
there,  any  favorite  passages.  The  first  time  I  read  Spenser's 
"  Fairy  Queen,"  it  was  in  Kentucky,  and  in  a  copy  which 
had  belonged  to  the  poet  John  Keats.  It  was  marked  all 
through  with  his  pen  at  those  places  which  especially  inter- 
ested and  pleased  him.  I  enjoyed  the  book  all  the  more  for 
those  marks.  The  pleasure  you  find  in  this,  arises,  I  think, 
from  the  fact  that  you  are  reading  two  minds  at  the  same 
time,  —  the  mind  of  the  author,  and  that  of  the  previous 
reader.  You  seem  to  look  into  the  heart  and  thouglit  of  him 
who  has  gone  before  you  ;  and,  whenever  you  come  to  his 
pencil-mark,  you  say,  "Why  was  he  interested  in  this?" 
and  you  stop  a  moment  to  read  in  your  friend's  mind  what 
his  thought  was  about  the  author. 

Now,  suppose  that  we  could  have  the  very  copy  of  the 
Hebrew  Scriptures  which  was  used  by  Jesus  when  a  child,  a 
boy,  a  man,  at  Nazareth,  —  the  very  rolls,  marked  in  the 
margin  with  his  hand  at  his  favorite  passages  ;  could  any- 
tliing  be  more  interesting  than  this?  AVould  it  not  let  us 
into  the  mind  of  Christ  to  see  what  texts  he  loved  the  most 
in  all  the  volume?  How  very  interesting,  how  deeply 
affecting,  would  it  be  to  see  the  Bible  which  our  Lord  used. 


THE   FAVORITE   TEXTS   OF   JESUS.  247 

I  was  interested  in  John  Keats's  marks  in  "  Spenser,"  be- 
cause he  was  a  poet  too.  A  poet  reading  a  poet  seems  to  be 
a  good  guide  ;  but  Jesus,  the  prophetic  soul,  reading  the 
books  of  the  great  prophetic  souls  who  went  before  him,  in- 
terprets them  to  us  best  of  all. 

We  have  not  the  Bible  that  Jesus  used ;  but  we  have 
almost  the  same  thing :  we  have  his  favorite  passages  in  the 
Old  Testament  given  to  us  in  another  way.  We  have  his 
quotations  from  it  preserved  for  us  in  the  New  Testament. 
All  may  not  be  preserved  ;  but  we  have  about  forty  passages, 
quoted  by  Jesus  from  the  different  Jewish  Scriptures. 

I  have  thought  it  might  be  interesting  and  useful  to  look 
at  these,  or  at  some  of  them,  and  so  get  a  glimpse  into 
the  mind  of  Jesus  through  this  little  window. 

Jesus  has  quoted  about  thirty-nine  passages  from  eleven 
books  of  the  Old  Testament.  From  each  of  the  five  books 
of  Moses  —  Genesis,  Exodus,  Leviticus,  Numbers,  and  Deu- 
teronomy —  fifteen  passages  ;  nine  passages  from  the  Psalms  ; 
seven  from  Isaiah ;  eight  from  Jeremiah,  Hosea,  Malachi, 
and  Zechariah. 

He  has  quoted  nothing  from  the  historical  books,  from 
Joshua  to  Esther  inclusive  ;  nothing  from  Job,  Proverbs, 
Ecclesiastes,  or  the  Song  of  Solomon  ;  nothing  from  twelve 
of  the  prophets,  including  Ezekiel  and  Daniel. 

Let  me  remark,  before  proceeding  further,  that,  in  quoting 
from  the  Old  Testament,  our  Lord  thinks  more  of  the  spirit 
than  of  the  letter.  He  quotes  sometimes  from  the  Hebrew, 
and  sometimes  from  the  Septuagint  Greek  translation  ;  and 
of  some  passages  it  is  hard  to  say  whence  they  are  quoted. 
Sometimes  he  puts  together  two  texts  from  different  places, 
as  when  he  says,  "  It  is  written,  My  house  shall  be  called  a 
house  of  prayer  for  all  nations ;  but  ye  have  made  it  a  den 
of  thieves."  The  first  half  is  from  Isaiah,  the  last  from 
Jeremiah.  Therefore  he  has  not  any  idea  of  using  th^se 
passages  logically  as  proof-texts,  or  controversially  as  argu- 


248  THE   FAVORITE    TEXTS   OF  JESUS. 

meuts  adapted  to  coQviuce  doubters  ;  for,  in  such  a  case,  it 
would  have  been  necessary  for  his  purpose  to  quote  ^yith 
precision.  The  object  for  which  he  adduces  these  passages 
is  moral  and  spiritual,  for  which  no  such  accuracy  is  needed. 

CHRIST    FULFILLING    SCRIPTURE. 

He  sometimes  spoke  of  himself  as  fulfilling  these  Scrip- 
tures. I  think  we  often  have  a  false  idea  of  what  is  meant 
by  this.  We  suppose  that  it  means  to  adduce  a  prediction 
which  is  literally  accomplished  by  a  fact.  We  suppose  that 
Jesus  did  certain  things  merely  to  fulfil  the  predictions  of 
Scripture.  Thus  we  might  suppose  that  Jesus  healed  dis- 
eases to  fulfil  one  prophecy  of  Isaiah  ;  that  he  kept  silence 
about  himself  to  fulfil  another ;  and  spoke  in  parables  to 
fulfil  a  third.* 

But  this  is  not  the  Scripture  meaning  of  "  fulfil,"  Such 
a  fulfilment  of  prophecy  as  this  would  have  no  value,  and 
reflect  no  honor  on  prophecy.  When  an  astronomer  predicts 
an  eclipse  to  take  place  on  a  certain  day,  at  a  particular  hour 
and  minute,  and  it  does  happen  at  that  very  time,  we  see  in 
it  a  proof  of  knowledge  on  his  part;  but  if  God  should 
interfere,  and  cause  an  eclipse  to  happen  then,  merely  to 
confirm  the  astronomer's  prediction,  it  would  not  be  any 
proof  of  his  science.  So,  if  Jesus  worked  miracles  or 
spoke  parables  merely  because  it  had  been  predicted  that  he 
would  do  so,  it  would  not  redound  to  the  credit  of  the  proph- 
ecy. If  you  predict  that,  on  a  certain  day,  I  shall  preach 
a  sermon  on  a  certain  text,  and  1  select  that  text  in  order  to 
fulfil  your  prophecy,  do  you  not  see  that  it  would  not  give 
any  one  faith  in  your  prophetic  talent  ? 

There  is  another  sense  in  whicii  the  word  "  fulfilled  "  is 
used   in   the  New  Testament.     Jesus  fulfilled   Scripture   in 

*  The  usual  formula  on  these  occasions  is,  *'  All  this  was  done, 
that  it  might  be  fulfilled  wliich  was  spoken  by  the  prophet,"  &c. 


THE  FAVORITE  TEXTS  OF  JESUS.        249 

another  way.  To  "  fulfil,"  in  the  Scripture  sense,  is  "  to 
carry  out  perfectly  : "  it  is  to  develop  a  principle  or  truth 
to  its  ultimate  result.  Thus  "  love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the 
law  ;  "  that  is,  it  carries  law  out  to  its  last  results.  ^''Fulfil 
ye  my  joy  ;  "  that  is,  carry  it  fully  out.  ''  He  will  fulfil  the 
desire  of  them  that  fear  him  ;  "  that  is,  give  them  all  they 
desire.  "  It  becometh  us  to  fulfil  all  righteousness  ;  "  i.  e., 
carry  it  all  out  perfectly.  Thus  the  law  is  fulfilled,  obe- 
dience is  fulfilled,  joy  is  fulfilled,  in  this  way,  by  being 
carried  to  perfection. 

Jesus  fulfils  all  things  in  the  law  and  the  prophets  by 
carrying  each  thing  fully  out  to  its  perfection.  "  I  came 
not  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil."  He  sees  a  germ  of  good  in  all 
things  :  he  comes  to  fulfil  it.  He  destroys  nothing.  He 
does  not  destroy  anything  in  nature  or  in  man,  or  in  human 
life,  or  in  the  religions  of  the  world :  he  fulfils  them  all. 

Thus  it  was  that  Jesus  did  not  -destroy,  but  fulfil,  the 
Plebrew  law.  He  took  up  its  essence  into  his  own  doctrine, 
and  dropped  its  accidental  form.  He  fulfilled  its  morality  by 
a  higher  morality.  The  law  written  on  stone  was  fulfilled 
by  a  law  written  in  the  heart.  He  changed  it  from  a  law  of 
negation  and  prohibition  into  one  of  attraction,  of  positive 
good.  Thus,  Avhen  the  law  said,  "  Do  not  murder,"  Christ 
fulfilled  it  by  saying  "  Love  your  enemy." 

MERCY,    AND    NOT    SACRIFICE. 

One  of  his  favorite  passages  —  which  he  quotes,  indeed^ 
twice,  and  in  reference  to  two  different  matters  —  is  from 
Hos.  vi.  6  :  "I  desire  mercy,  and  not  sacrifice  ;  and  the 
knowledge  of  God  more  than  burnt-offerings."  The  first 
time  was  when  Jesus  was  reproved  for  eating  with  publi- 
cans, and  said  "  Go,  and  learn  what  that  meaneth,  I  will 
have  mercy,  ana  not  sacrifice."  The  other  time  was  when 
his  disciples  plucked  ears  of  corn  on  the  Sabbath-day.  The 
Pharisees  blamed  them  ;  but  Jesus  said,  "  If  ye  had  known 


250  THE    FAVORITE    TEXTS   OF   JESUS. 

what  this  meaus,  I  will  have  mercy,  and  not  sacrifice,  you 
would  not  have  condemned  the  guiltless."  Evidently,  he 
had  thought  of  it  often,  and  deeply.  What  does  God  wish 
of  us?  Does  he  wish  anything  from  us?  Does  he  wait 
and  long  to  have  anything?  He  wishes  for  mercy  to  man, 
not  sacrifice  to  himself;  good-will  to  our  brethren,  not  wor- 
ship to  himself.  Sabbath-keeping  is  good ;  but  love  is  bet- 
ter,—  care  for  man  is  better.  Do  we  realize  this?  I  am 
afraid  not.  We  do  not  know  now,  eighteen  hundred  years 
smce  Christ  said  it,  twenty-six  hundred  years  since  Hosea 
said  it,  what  it  means.  There  is  meaning  in  it  yet,  which 
the  Church  has  not  exhausted.  Jesus  was  deeply  convinced 
that  good  to  man  was  the  best  worship  of  God.  God  is 
wishing  for  this  ;  God  is  wishing  that  you  and  1  should  do 
more  for  those  who  need  than  we  now  do. 

MAN  LIVES  BY  TRUTH,  NOT  BY  BREAD. 

Another  favorite  passage  of  Jesus  is  found  in  Deut. 
viii.  3.  It  teaches  that  God  led  the  Jewish  nation  forty 
years  in  the  wilderness,  to  humble  and  prove  it,  and  to  know 
what  was  in  its  heart ;  and  goes  on  thus  :  "  He  humbled 
thee  and  proved  thee,  and  suffered  thee  to  hunger,  and  fed 
thee  Vith  manna,  which  thou  knewest  not,  neither  did  thy 
fathers  know  ;  that  he  might  make  thee  know  that  man  doth 
not  live  by  bread  only  ;  but  by  every  luord  that  proceedeth 
out  of  the  mouth  of  God  doth  man  live."  In  the  Hebrew 
text,  the  original  expression  is  "  every  thing ;  "  in  the  Sep- 
tuagint  it  is  ""  every  word."  Jesus  here  follows  the  Septua- 
gint. 

In  reading  Deuteronomy,  his  eye  caught  at  this.  How 
does  man  live?  What  is  man's  true  life?  Not  of  the  body, 
but  of  the  soul.  What  is  his  real  food?  Truth,  the  sight 
of  truth,  coming  from  God,  —  this  is  his  real  life. 

If,  then,  he  must  sacrifice  everything  else,  —  all  comfort, 
success,  appreciation,  reputation  ;   if  he  must  be  laughed  at, 


THE    FAVORITE    TEXTS    OF   JESUS.  251 

set  aside,  counted  as  nothing ;  if  his  life  seems  a  failure  ;  if 
he  have  many  enemies  and  few  friends,  —  all  this  is  nothing, 
if  he  really  sees  the  truth  ;  for  this  will  make  him  strong 
and  happy.  He  can  live  on  this,  and  live  joyfully.  He  will 
have  no  sense  of  sacrifice  :  all  will  be  glad  and  joyful  in  his 
heart  while  he  sees  the  truth. 

In  the  hour  of  his  great  temptation,  these  words  of  Moses 
came  to  him  ;  and  it  had  become  an  intimate  conviction  with 
him,  so  that  he  resisted  the  temptation  easily,  and  said  to 
Satan,  "  I  do  not  need  bread  :  I  need  to  be  right.  I  am  not 
hungry  for  anything  this  world  can  give;  I  am  hungry  for 
truth  :  my  longing  is  for  that." 

So  afterwards  he  said  to  the  Jews  (with  a  reference  to 
this  passage  in  his  mind),  "  Moses  gave  you  not  that  bread 
from  heaven  :  my  Father  giveth  you  the  true  bread  from 
heaven."  Miraculous  bread  does  not  come  from  heaven  ; 
for,  after  all,  it  is  material  food,  not  spiritual.  Nothing 
comes  from  heaven  but  what  is  spiritual. 

This  quotation  also  illustrates  his  meaning  in  the  petition, 
"  Give  us  this  day  our  daily  (necessary)  bread."  Truth  is 
daily  bread,  more  necessary  even  than  earthly  food  ;  and  is 
always  to  be  understood  as  included  in  this  petition. 

GOD    THE    GOD    OF    THE    LIVING. 

The  passage  (Matt.  xxii.  32  ;  Mark  xii.  '2Q  ;  Luke  xx. 
37)  quoted  from  Exod.  iii.  6,  16,  is  very  interesting  and 
important. 

God  in  this  place  says  to  Moses,  "  I  am  the  God  of  Abra- 
ham, and  the  God  of  Isaac,  and  the  God  of  Jacob."  Jesus 
takes  this  as  the  proof-text  of  immortality  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment?    Why  did  he  do  so? 

It  is  well  known  that  there  is  little  to  be  found  in  the  Old 
Testament  concerning  a  future  life.  Some  writers  say  that 
nothing  is  there.  All  that  the  Jews  learned  about  it  they  are 
said  to  have  learned  in  the  Babylonish  captivity.     Yet  some 


252  THE    FAVORITE    TEXTS    OF    JESUS. 

Other  passages  Jesus  might  have  quoted.  There  is,  for  in- 
stance, the  famous  passage  in  Job,  "  I  know  that  my  Re- 
deemer liveth."  &c.  There  is  that  in  Daniel,  "  Many  of 
them  who  sleep  in  the  dust  of  the  earth  shall  awake,  some 
to  everlasting  life,  and  some  to  shame  and  everlasting  con 
tempt.  And  they  that  be  wise  shall  shine  as  the  brightness 
of  the  firmament ;  and  they  that  turn  many  to  righteousnes'^, 
as  the  stars  forever  and  ever." 

But  Jesus  passed  by  these  texts,  which  are  commonly 
quoted  as  proof-texts  of  immortality,  and  took  this  one. 
Why  ?  If  God  is  our  God,  he  says,  we  cannot  die.  He  is 
a  living  God.  He  speaks  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob  as 
being  his.  The  moment  he  calls  them  his,  they  must  be 
alive.  For  God  to  think  of  them  would  make  them  alive, 
if  they  had  been  dead  a  thousand  years. 

Is  not  this  the  only  guaranty  of  life?  It  is  the  interest 
felt  by  God  in  each  particular  soul,  the  love  of  God  for  each 
.«oul.  If  every  soul  is  a  separate  being  to  God,  with  a  sepa- 
rate special  value,  a  name  of  its  own,  then  each  soul  must 
live.  If  he  knows  you  and  me,  knows  us  as  he  has  made  us, 
and  made  us  for  himself,  then  we  cannot  die. 

Why,  if  you  have  taken  pains  to  carve  a  figure,  or  draw 
a  man's  face  with  a  pencil,  you  do  not  quite  like  to  destroy 
it.  You  have  put  some  of  yourself  into  it.  God  has  put 
something  of  himself  into  each  of  us.  We,  therefore,  all 
live  to  him  ;  for  we  all  live//'o??i  him. 

This  is  the  highest  proof  of  immortality  ;  but  it  is  a  proof 
not  addressed  to  the  logical  understanding,  but  to  the  higher 
reason.  It  shows  us  what  Jesus  regarded  as  the  true 
authority  of  the  Old  Testament  in  proof  of  doctrine. 

The  common  mode  of  proof  by  theologians  is  to  say, 
"  Here  are  so  many  texts  in  which  such  a  doctrine  is  stated 
by  Moses,  Job,  Solomon,  and  Micah  ;  but  these  are  inspired 
meu  ;  ihercfore  God  says  it ;  therefore,  whether  you  can 
imderstand  it  or  not,  you  must  believe  it."  This  is  arguing 
like  a  pedagogue,  not  like  a  Christian  teacher. 


THE   FAVORITE   TEXTS   OF   JESUS.  253 

But  Christ  does  not  quote  Scripture  thus.  He  does  not 
concentrate  a  battery  of  texts,  torn  from  their  contexts,  with 
which  to  confuse  and  prostrate  an  opponent.  Instead  of  this, 
his  argument  demands  the  presence  of  some  religious  insight 
iu  order  to  be  understood,  and  it  is  convincing  in  proportion 
to  the  amount  of  faith  in  the  hearer.  The  word  of  Jesus 
profits  only  when  mixed  with  religious  faith  in  those  to  whom 
he  speaks.  To  feel  the  force  of  this  passage,  for  example, 
one  must  know  something  of  the  nature  of  love,  human  and 
divine ;  something  of  the  nature  of  the  human  soul,  and  its 
worth  ;  something  also  of  what  life  really  is. 

THE    MESSIAH. 

There  is  a  peculiar  interest  in  noticing  the  passages  which 
Jesus  quotes  from  the  Old  Testament,  in  regard  to  the 
Messiah,  as  applied  to  himself. 

Luke  iv.  18,  19,  —  taken  from  Isaiah  (Ixi.  1,  2).  Jesus 
quotes  the  following  passage  :  "  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is 
upon  me,  because  he  hath  anointed  me  to  preach  the  gospel 
to  the  poor :  he  hath  sent  me  to  heal  the  broken-hearted,  to 
preach  deliverance  to  the  captives,  and  recovering  of  sight 
to  the  blind ;  to  set  at  liberty  them  that  are  bruised  ;  to 
preach  the  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord." 

In  this  passage,  which  Jesus  selected  from  the  book  of 
Isaiah  to  read  at  Nazareth  among  his  own  people,  and  which 
he  applied  to  himself  after  having  read  it,  we  gather  the  view 
he  himself  took  of  his  own  work. 

There  are  many  other  passages  iu  Isaiah,  usually  applied 
to  Christ,  and  supposed  to  be  predictions  of  the  Messiah, 
which  Jesus  might  have  quoted,  but  did  not.  There  is  the 
passage  concerning  "  Immanuel,"  in  the  seventh  chapter. 
There  is  the  passage  (Isa.  ix.  6)  in  which  Christ  is  usually 
believed  to  be  predicted,  and  in  which  he  is  called  "  Won- 
derful, Counsellor,  the  mighty  God,  the  everlasting  Father, 
the  Prince  of  peace  ;  "  but  Jesus  does  not  select  this  passage. 


254  THE   FAVORITE   TEXTS  OF   JESUS. 

Then  there  is  the  famous  passage  (in  Isa.  xi.)  in  which  is 
described  the  Branch  that  was  to  grow  out  of  the  stem  of 
Jesse,  —  a  passage  which  contains  a  beautiful  description  of 
the  coming  of  Christ,  and  of  his  kingdom  of  peace  ;  but  even 
this  he  passes  by.  More  remarkable  is  it  that  he  entirely 
omits  to  notice  the  famous  prophecy  (in  Isa.  liii.)  of  the 
man  of  sorrows,  except  by  a  casual  allusion.  Still  less  does 
he  refer  to  the  prophecy  of  a  triumphant  and  conquering 
Messiah,  who  overcomes  his  enemies,  and  subdues  nations ; 
but  he  selects  this  passage,  in  which  the  Messiah  is  described 
as  sent  to  preach  to  the  poor  and  to  heal  the  broken-hearted. 
Evidently  he  had  often  dwelt  in  his  mind  upon  this  view  of 
the  Christ.  He  saw  himself  called  to  be  the  Messiah  in  this 
high  sense  ;  and  in  this  sense  he  really  became  the  Messiah. 

There  is  another  passage  concerning  the  Christ,  which  he 
quotes  (Matt.  xxii.  44)  from  the  hundred  and  tenth  Psalm. 
In  this  Psalm,  David  calls  the  Christ,  whose  coming  he  fore- 
sees, "  my  Lord."  Jesus  asks  the  Pharisees  how  David 
could  have  called  his  own  descendant  "  my  Lord."  This 
question,  which  is  left  unanswered  both  by  the  Pharisees  and 
by  Jesus  himself,  shows  that  he  had  meditated  upon  its  mean- 
ing. He  saw  that  the  Messiah  was  not  to  be  merely  a  con- 
tinuation of  David,  or  a  reproduction  of  David  :  he  was  to 
go  on  from  the  stand-point  of  David  to  a  much  higher  one. 
David  was  already  so  glorified  in  the  Jewish  mind,  that  the 
Jews  mostly  expected  in  the  Messiah  only  another  David  ; 
but  Jesus  had  seen  intimations  in  the  Old  Testament  itself 
of  that  which  he  saw  clearly  in  the  prophetic  instincts  of  his 
own  soul,  —  that  the  day  of  the  Messiah  was  to  transcend  by 
a  long  interval  that  of  David. 

Put  together  these  two  passages,  in  one  of  which  Jesus 
had  found  from  Isaiah  that  the  work  of  the  Messiah  was  to 
coml'ort  and  help  the  lowly  ;  and  in  the  other,  that  by  this 
work  he  was  to  become  David's  Lord.  The  two,  thus 
united,  result  in  the  central  idea  of  Christ's  teaching,  that  he 


THE   FAVORITE   TEXTS   OP   JESUS.  255 

who  humbles  himself  shall  be  exalted  ;  that  the  work  of  the 
Messiah  is  to  seek  and  save  those  who  are  lost.  Thus,  no 
doubt,  by  the  revelations  made  to  his  own  soui,  and  by  medi- 
tations on  these  prpfound  passages  of  Scripture,  Jesus  grad- 
ually formed  in  his  mind  the  idea  of  the  true  Messiah,  and 
saw  that  he  was  sent  to  fulfil  it.  This  was  his  mission  in 
the  world  ;  for  this  God  had  sent  him.  He  did  not  accom- 
modate Scripture  to  his  idea,  as  is  the  fashion  sometimes  to 
say  ;  nor  did  he  change  his  idea  to  suit  the  Scripture  :  but 
he  saw  that  in  essence  and  spirit  they  were  identical.  When 
he  said,  "  Your  father  Abraham  rejoiced  to  see  ray  day  ;  and 
he  saw  it,  and  was  glad  ;  "  and  then  added,  "  Before  Abra- 
ham was,  I  was  the  Christ,"  — we  see  that  Jesus,  medi- 
tating on  the  promise  to  Abraham,  that  in  his  seed  all  the 
nations  of  the  earth  should  be  blessed,  saw  that  this  prophecy 
could  only  be  fulfilled  by  a  Jew,  who,  like  himself,  had  risen 
wholly  above  the  distinction  of  Jew  and  Gentile,  and  to 
whom  all  mankind  were  brethren,  because  children  of  one 
Father. 

Observe  also  the  authority  which  the  Master  claims  for 
himself  as  the  Son  of  man,  —  that  is,  as  the  man  in  whom 
humanity  took  its  full  development ;  who,  because  perfectly 
Son  of  man,  is  therefore  Son  of  God.  For  that  which  is 
perfectly  human  comes  into  a  perfectly  filial  relation  to  the 
Father.  He  who  stands  in  this  relation  to  God  and  man 
stands  higher  than  the  Scripture,  because  at  the  source  from 
whence  the  Scripture  came.  He  has  the  same  spirit  from 
whence  the  Scripture  proceeded.  Hence  Jesus  considered 
himself  to  be,  not  the  servant,  but  the  master,  of  the  Sab- 
bath ;  not  the  servant,  but  the  master,  of  the  Ten  Command- 
ments. In  Matt.  xix.  18,  he  rearranges  them,  putting 
'•Honor  thy  father  and  mother"  after  the  rest,  instead  of 
before  them  ;  and  adding  an  eleventh  commandment,  out  of 
Lev.  xix.  18  :  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself." 
Evidently,  our  Lord,  in  reading   Leviticus,   had  seen  this 


256  THE    FAVORITE   TEXTS    OF   JESUS. 

command  shiaing  like  a  star  in  the  midst  of  the  ceremonial 
and  ritual  ordinances.  It  left  its  place  in  Leviticus,  and 
joined  the  ten  great  commandments,  at  his  behest ;  for  he 
was  Lord  of  the  Scripture  as  of  the  Sabbath,  because  he  was 
the  Son  of  man. 

This  very  phrase  —  "  Son  of  man"  —  was  taken  by  Jesus 
from  Dan.  vii.  13.  In  this  passage,-  the  Messiah  is  repre- 
sented as  "  a  man,'*  coming  "  with  the  clouds  of  heaven," 
and  standing  before  the  "  Ancient  of  days "  to  receive  an 
everlasting  dominion  which  shall  never  pass  away.  There 
Jesus  could  see  himself  to  have  been  foretold  by  the  prophets. 
He  saw  himself  as  a  man,  receiving  an  everlasting  dominion, 
but  coming  "  in  the  clouds  of  heaven  ;  "  for  the  "  clouds  of 
heaven,"  in  the  language  of  the  old  Testament,  indicate  the 
obscurity  which  surrounds  the  providences  of  God.  When 
Jesus  predicts  his  future  coming  as  to  be  "  in  the  clouds  of 
heaven,"  he  means  that  it  will  be  without  "  observation." 

The  subject  I  have  spoken  of  is  one  for  a  book,  not  for  a 
sermon. 

These  thirty-nine  quotations  from  the  Old  Testament  de- 
serve to  be  weighed  carefully,  till  we  learn  what  Jesus  found 
in  each  of  them.  His  meditations  on  them  are  full  of  light 
for  us  all.  We  shall  find  that  to  him  the  Old  Testament 
was  a  book  most  valuable,  not  for  what  it  said,  but  for  what 
it  suggested  ;  that  he  searched  in  it  for  the  spirit,  and  not 
for  the  letter  ;  that  he  did  not  value  its  prodigies  and  won- 
ders ;  that  he  did  not  regard  its  long  procession  of  marvels 
and  portents  ;  that  all  its  savage  Avars  he  omits  to  notice  ; 
and  that  of  the  worldliness,  infidelity,  and  unbelief  of  its  peo- 
ple and  princes  he  says  nothing.  Solomon,  for  example,  who 
is  to  the  Mohammedans  so  much,  to  Jesus  is  nothing. 

The  texts  most  quoted  by  our  modern  Orthodox  teachers 
and  writers  Jesus  never  quotes  at  all. 

Jesus  took  the  best  out  of  the  Old  Testament  as  out  of 
cvcTvthiug.      This  is  the  lesson  of  his  quotations.     He  passes 


THE    FAVORITE    TEXTS    OP   JESUS.  257 

By  the  low,  the  mean,  the  false,  and  finds  the  good.  Find- 
ing the  good,  he  found  the  true;  for  only  that  which  is  good 
is  really  true. 

How  differently  have  others  studied  the  Old  Testament ! 
Some  study  it  to  find  ■proof-texts  of  this  or  that  doctrine  ; 
some  to  find  arguments  in  favor  of  old  abuses,  —  slavery, 
intemperance,  polygamy,  despotism,  persecution,  war,  witch- 
craft ;  some  to  find  faults,  errors,  contradictions,  absurdities, 
in  its  letter  ;  some  to  justify  low  views  of  God  as  an  arbitrary 
Being,  of  man  as  a  degraded  being.  But  Jesus  studies  these 
inspired  writings  to  find  the  best,  highest,  and  purest  in  all 
things.  So  he  finds  in  them  a  divine  spirit ;  he  searches  in 
them  for  a  profounder  sense  of  God's  love  ;  he  develops  them 
all  to  a  higher  point ;  and  he  thus  fulfils  everything  which 
they  contain.  He  makes  them  full  of  meaning  and  full  of 
life.  He  takes  out  of  the  hard  shell  its  living  kernel ;  he 
supersedes  much  of  them,  and  values  always  the  practical 
part  more  than  the  ceremonial. 
17 


XXIII. 

HE  WHO  EXALTETH  HIMSELF. 

Luke  xiv.  11 :  "  He  that  exalteth  himself  shall  Bfi  abased,  and 

HE    that    HUMBLETH    HIMSELF    SHALL   BE    EXALTED." 

WHEN  Newton  saw  the  apple  fall,  he  saw  ia  it  the  law 
of  gravitation,  by  which  planets,  ever  falling  towards 
the  sun,  are  forever  carried  onward  along  their  mighty  orbits. 
When  Jesus  saw  the  guests  at  a  wedding  putting  themselves 
forward  to  get  the  best  places,  he  saw  the  law  of  spiritual 
gravitation,  by  which  every  soul  finds  its  right  place  in  the 
universe.  It  is  the  privilege  of  genius  to  detect  in  the  small- 
est incident  the  workings  of  the  largest  principles.  Nothing 
was  beneath  the  notice  of  Christ.  This  is  well  illustrated  by 
a  story  told  in  one  of  the  apocryphal  gospels.  Jesus,  it  is 
said,  was  walking  on  a  dusty  road,  on  a  hot  day,  behind  his 
disciples.  A  horseshoe  lay  on  the  ground,  and  when  Peter, 
who  preceded  the  rest,  came  to  it,  he  kicked  it  disdainfully 
aside.  Each  of  the  other  disciples,  in  passing,  did  the  same. 
But  when  Jesus  arrived,  he  lifted  it  from  the  ground,  and 
put  it  in  his  sleeve.  Presently  they  came  to  a  blacksmith's 
shop.  Jesus  drew  out  the  horseshoe  and  laid  it  down,  and 
the  blacksmith  handed  him  a  small  piece  of  money.  Then, 
walking  forward,  they  passed  a  stand  on  which  were  exposed 
some  cherries  for  sale.  Jesus  laid  down  the  piece  of  money, 
and  the  keeper  of  the  stall  gave  him  a  handful  of  cherries. 
lie  put  them  in  his  sleeve,  and,  going  forward,  preceded  the 
company.     The  sun  became  hotter.     They  crossed  a  dusty 

(258; 


HE   WHO   EXALTETH    HIMSELF.  259 

plain,  on  which  was  no  shadow.  Then  Jesus,  as  he  walked, 
dropped  the  cherries  on  the  ground,  one  after  the  other. 
AVhen  Peter  and  the  other  disciples  came  up,  they  stooped 
and  picked  up  the  cherries,  one  by  one,  and  ate  them.  When 
all  had  thus  been  eaten,  Jesus  turned  and  said,  with  a  smile, 
to  Peter,  "  If  you  had  been  willing  to  stoop  once  to  pick  up 
the  horseshoe,  you  would  not  have  been  obliged  to  stoop  so 
often  to  pick  up  the  cherries." 

So  also,  Jesus,  in  the  parable  of  the  Pharisee  and  publi- 
can, illustrates  the  same  law.  Beautiful  story !  perpetual 
rebuke  to  spiritual  pride  —  perpetual  benediction  on  modest 
self-distrust !  In  every  age  the  Pharisees  have  taken  the 
chief  seats  in  the  Church  of  Christ,  thanking  God  that  they 
were  saints,  elect,  orthodox,  pious  professors,  and  in  every 
age  the  publicans  have  stood  afar  off,  not  professing  any- 
thing, or  thinking  themselves  good  for  anything ;  and  this 
holy  parable  from  Christ's  lips  has  carried  warning  to  the 
one,  and  comfort  to  tlie  other. 

Jesus  always  praised  humility.  But  what  is  humility? 
Is  it  to  bow  down  the  head  like  a  bulrush  ?  Is  it  to  declare 
ourselves  the  chief  of  sinners  ?  Is  it  to  profess  to  be  vile, 
and  to  have  no  goodness  in  us?  No.  Humility  is  not  to 
look  doivn.,  but  to  look  wp.  It  is  to  keep  our  eyes  fixed  on 
something  higher  and  nobler  than  we  ourselves  are  ;  not  to 
seek  for  ourselves  place,  or  praise,  or  power,  but  to  be  ready 
to  work  anywhere,  anyhow,  for  any  good  cause  and  right 
purpose. 

"  He  who  exalteth  himself  shall  be  abased."  This  is  a 
universal  law.  He  who  endeavors  to  rise  by  force  of  will, 
by  cunning,  by  trying  to  seem  rather  than  to  be,  by  trying  to 
get  things  rather  than  to  do  things  —  he  may,  indeed,  rise. 
He  may  get  the  uppermost  seat  at  the  feast ;  but  he  cannot 
keep  it ;  and  while  he  has  it  he  does  not  enjoy  it,  for  he 
knows  that  it  does  not  belong  to  him.  He  has  a  giddy 
and  unsure  habitation,  building  not  on  substantial  value,  but 


260  HE    WHO    EXALTETH    HIMSELF. 

on  cunning,  luck,  and  force.  Some  people  try  to  exalt  them- 
selves socially  —  to  get  the  chief  seats  at  the  feast  of  society. 
There  are  men  and  women  in  New  York  and  Boston  who 
expend  as  much  talent  and  energy  in  the  effort  to  get  into 
certain  circles  of  society,  as  would  enable  them  to  become 
accomplished  scholars,  distinguished  writers,  or  virtuous 
Christians.  They  have  a  sort  of  success,  but  what  does  it 
amount  to  ?  They  do  not  feel  at  home  in  the  position  they 
have  gained.  They  are  always  afraid  that  some  more  hon- 
orable man  or  woman  will  arrive,  and  they  be  obliged  to 
give  them  place.  For  in  society,  also,  everything  finds  its 
level,  and  every  one  goes  to  his  own  place  at  last ;  each 
one  goes  where  he  belongs.  Some  people  try  to  exalt  them- 
selves politically.  They  devote  themselves  to  the  art  of 
rising.  In  everything  they  do,  they  are  thinking  of  what  it 
will  lead  to.  They  try  to  get  offices,  no  matter  what  ones, 
not  to  do  the  work  of  the  office,  but  to  make  it  a  stepping- 
stone  to  something  else.  They  forget  that  the  word  office  is 
derived  from  the  Latin  word  qfficium,  and  means  a  duty. 
They  try  to  be  selectmen,  to  be  chosen  members  of  the 
common  council,  or  school  committee,  or  legislature  ;  and 
when  elected  to  any  of  these  places,  they  take  no  interest  in 
the  work  which  is  to  be  done,  but  only  wish  to  display  them- 
selves, to  be  seen  and  talked  about,  and  so  get  chosen  to 
something  else. 

We  have  had  men  in  this  country  who  seemed  sent  for 
a  warning.  Such  usually  devote  themselves  to  rising.  Com- 
monly, as  politicians,  each  is  careful  to  be  a  Democrat,  — 
not  that  he  believes  in  human  rights  or  human  liberty,  for 
he  does  not.  But  the  word  Democrat  is  popular,  so  he  is  a 
Democrat.  He  fawns  and  flatters  men  who  can  help  him  ; 
he  becomes  dough  and  putty  in  the  hands  of  his  leaders, 
and  says,  ''  Here  I  am — nothing  at  all ;  make  of  me  what 
you  will.  I  am  ready  to  do  any  dirty  work  you  have  to  do." 
He  is  one  who  never,  by  any  accident,  gives  way  to  au 


HE   WHO    EXALTETH   HIMSELF.  261 

honest  utterance  of  real  conviction,  to  any  rash  sally  of 
enthusiasm.  So  he  winds  his  way  up,  and  at  last  obtains 
the  end  of  his  ambition  —  perhaps  becomes  President  of  the 
United  States  ;  and,  sometimes  in  that  awful  hour  which 
sifts  men's  souls,  it  becomes  evident  that  he  has  no  soul. 
He  stands  in  that  exalted  position  simply  to  be  seen  to  be 
unfit  for  it.  When  a  man  is  wanted  more  than  ever  before, 
there  is  no  one  there  —  only  a  party  politician.  He  exalts 
himself,  and  is  abased.  Yet  he  is  not  a  traitor  —  he  is 
simply  nothing,  trying  to  seem  something. 

Meantime,  there  is  another  person  whose  life  has  been 
spent,  not  in  seeming,  but  in  doing.  He  has  not  been  trying 
to  exalt  himself,  but  to  do  his  honest  day's  work,  whatever 
it  is,  whether  splitting  rails,  or  arguing  for  justice  and  free- 
dom against  Judge  Douglas.  So  the  nation,  looking  around 
for  a  man,  sees  him,  and  says,  "  Friend,  go  up  higher." 
And  he  goes  up,  with  his  serious  face,  goes  up  to  do,  amid 
derision,  hatred,  opposition,  his  appointed  task,  until,  having 
done  it,  having  given  safety  to  a  nation  and  freedom  to  a 
race,  God  says  to  him,  by  an  assassin's  hand,  "  Friend,  go 
up  higher,"  and  he 'goes  up  to  take  his  place  among  the 
immortals. 

The  religion,  also,  which  exalts  itself  shall  be  abased  ;  that 
which  humbles  itself  shall  be  exalted.  The  religion  which 
boasts  that  it  alone  is  catholic  and  apostolic  ;  the  creed  which 
declares  itself  to  be  the  only  orthodox  one  ;  the  church  and 
denomination  which  claim  to  have  the  truth,  because  of  their 
superior  piety,  their  multitude  of  missions,  their  many  and 
wonderful  works  ;  which  say  to  the  Master,  "  Have  we  not 
prophesied  in  thy  name,  and  in  thy  name  cast  out  demons, 
and  in  thy  name  done  many  wonderful  things  ?  "  —  those 
churches  which  exalt  themselves  shall  often  be  abased. 
Christ  may  say  to  them,  "  I  never  knew  you."  But  if  there 
be  anywhere  a  company  of  brave  souls,  of  loving  hearts, 
who  try  to  do  good  to  all  men  in  the  spirit  of  Jesus,  then, 


262  HE   WHO    EXALTETH    HIMSELF. 

whether  they  call  themselves  by  any  Christian  name  or  not, 
whether  they  claim  to  be  religious  or  not,  —  they  may  call 
themselves  Freemasons,  or  Odd  Fellows,  or  Temperance 
Societies,  or  Abolitionists,  or  any  other  name  they  will,  —  yet 
if  they  humbly  and  honestly  do  Christian  work,  then  they 
shall  be  exalted.  For  the  text  proclaims  the  universal  law 
of  spiritual  dynamics,  that  all  moral  forces  shall  find  their 
level,  that  real  goodness  shall  be  known  at  last  as  real,  that 
sham  goodness  shall  be  seen  at  last  to  be  a  sham.  For  "  there 
is  nothing  covered  which  shall  not  be  revealed,  nor  anything 
hid  which  shall  not  be  known." 

This  is  always  the  astonishing  thing  in  real  greatness,  — 
its  simplicity,  its  love  for  the  realities  which  have  no  prestige 
about  them.  This  is  the  one  thing  which  is  in  common  to 
all  great  writers  and  great  works  of  genius.  They  deal  with 
the  humblest  realities.  They  go  out  in  the  highways  and 
hedges,  and  bring  the  poor,  and  maimed,  and  halt,  and  blind 
to  the  banquet  of  genius,  —  the  marriage  of  Thought  and 
Love.  Shakspeare  takes  a  negro,  and  racks  his  soul  with 
jealousy  ;  takes  a  merchant  of  Venice  and  a  sharp  Jew,  and 
reads  their  hearts  and  thrills  ours.  If  hh  chooses  a  king,  or 
any  illustrious  person,  he  drops  all  the  royal  robes,  and 
shows  us  the  man  inside  of  them,  just  like  ourselves.  Such 
books  as  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  Don  Quixote,  Robinson 
Crusoe,  derive  all  their  undying  charm,  from  age  to  age, 
from  the  simple  human  feeling  that  is  there.  So  thinkers 
and  writers  also  divide  themselves  into  two  classes  :  some 
are  exalted,  and  some  exalt  themselves.  Some  aim  at 
effect,  put  on  the  spangle  and  tinsel  of  gaudy  rhetoric,  but 
are  forgotten  presently  and  disappear.  Mr.  Tupper  wrote  a 
book  of  Proverbial  Philosophy,  which  deceived  all  mankind 
for  a  short  time.  His  phrases  were  so  ambitious,  and  his 
style  so  sounding,  that  people  did  not  at  first  see  how  trivial 
were  his  thoughts.  So  his  book  lay  on  the  centre-tables,  in 
fine  binding,  for  a  year  or  two  ;  then  a  more  honorable  man 
came,  and  Tupper  began,  with  shame,  to  take  a  lower  seat. 


HE   WHO   EXALTETH    HIMSELF.  263 

Everything  finds  its  level.  If  a  man  is  anything,  it  is 
sure  to  be  found  out ;  if  a  man  only  seems  to  be  something? 
that  also  is  sure  to  be  found  out.  It  is  so  in  society,  litera- 
ture, business,  religion.  The  author  of  the  recent  book  on 
the  life  of  Jesus,  called  "  Ecce  Homo,"  says  that  nothing 
surprised  Paul  more  in  the  character  of  Jesus  than  this 
humility.  Gifted,  as  Jesus  was,  with  those  miraculous 
powers  by  which  he  could  at  any  moment  exalt  himself  to  be 
the  object  of  universal  admiration,  become  at  once  the  idol 
and  ruler  of  the  nation,  he  used  them  so  quietly,  so  unosten- 
tatiously, in  the  service  of  the  poorest,  to  heal  the  sick  in 
out  of  the  way  places,  that  he  succeeded  in  being  unnoticed. 
He  sought  the  shade,  as  others  seek  notoriety.  "  Being  in 
the  image  of  God,"  having  all  these  divine  powers,  he  did 
not  grasp  any  divine  honors,  but  made  himself  nothing, 
taking  the  form  of  a  servant,  and  submitted  to  the  death  of 
the  cross.  "  Wherefore,"  he  continues,  "  God  has  highly 
exalted  him,  and  given  him  a  name  which  is  above  every 
name  ;  that  at  the  name  of  Jesus,  every  knee  should  bow, 
of  things  in  heaven,  and  things  in  earth,  and  things  under 
the  earth,  and  that  every  tongue  should  confess  that  Jesus 
Christ  is  Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God  the  Father."  Yes ! 
Paul  has  seen  and  stated  in  this  place  the  very  secret,  the 
inmost  mystery,  of  the  power  of  Jesus.  He  became  the 
King  of  the  world,  not  because  of  his  miracles,  as  many 
think,  but  in  spite  of  them.  The  Cross  of  Christ,  by  which 
the  world  is  crucified  to  us,  and  we  to  the  world,  if  we  are 
Christians,  was  no  fictitious  death  of  a  God-man,  to  appease 
the  wrath  of  God,  but  it  was  this  deliberate  humbling  of 
himself  to  the  realities  which  underlie  all  appearances.  It 
was  giving  up  all  apparent  success  for  the  sake  of  real 
success.  His  religion  went  so  high  that  it  went  up  out  of 
sight.  The  people  did  not  think  he  had  any  religion  :  they 
called  him  a  blasphemer.  His  self-denial  ran  so  deep,  that  the 
people  did  not  see  that :  they  called  him  a  gluttonous  man  and 


264  HE   WHO    EXALTETH   HIMSELF. 

a  wine-bibber.  The  Pharisees,  —  they  were  the  religions 
people  in  all  men's  eyes,  —  they  prayed  at  the  corners 
of  the  streets,  while  Jesus  went  apart  into  some  lonely 
place  to  pray.  It  does  not  appear  that  Jesus  had  formal 
prayers  with  his  disciples :  they  had  to  ask  him  to  teach 
them  how  to  say  their  prayers,  "  as  John  taught  his  disci- 
ples." And  then  the  prayer  he  taught  them  was  the  shortest 
liturgy  ever  given  by  any  founder  of  a  religion.  Instead  of 
being  contained  in  volumes,  it  is  compressed  into  lines.  The 
Pharisees  fasted  twice  in  a  week.  Jesus  did  not  allow  his 
disciples  to  fast  at  all,  simply  because,  as  he  said,  it  would 
not  be  natural  for  them  to  do  so.  He  was  not  willing  to 
have  them  fast  merely  as  a  tradition  or  a  custom,  when 
there  was  nothing  in  their  hearts  corresponding  thereto. 
But  we,  here  in  Massachusetts,  keep  up  an  annual  Fast, 
which  is  wholly  unnatural  to  us,  simply  because  our  ances- 
tors had  one  which  was  natural  to  them.  And  so  also, 
Jesus  went  so  deeply  into  the  great  Sabbath  of  spiritual 
rest,  that  he  neglected  the  outward  Jewish  Sabbath.  He 
was  called  a  Sabbath-breaker,  because  he  said,  "  Go  and 
walk,  and  do  anything  else  which  is  good  for  you  on  tlie 
Sabbath,  for  the  Sabbath  is  made  for  man."  We  have  not 
got  so  far  as  that  now,  for  our  good  Pharisees  are  trying  to 
stop  the  running  of  street  cars,  —  not  on  the  ground  that 
people  do  not  need  them,  or  that  it  is  better  for  mankind  to 
rest  on  the  Lord's  Day,  but  on  the  ground  that  running 
of  street  cars  was  forbidden  by  Moses  in  the  fourth  com- 
mandment. 

The  humility  of  Christ  consisted  therefore  in  this,  that 
he  went  into  reality  in  all  things.  He  wanted  real  re- 
ligion, real  goodness,  real  love ;  not  its  name  and  form. 
In  order  to  have  the  reality,  he  sacrificed  the  appearance  ; 
he  was  content  to  be  called  a  gluttonous  man,  and  a  wine- 
bibber,  a  friend  of  publicans  and  sinners  ;  he  was  contented 
to  be  thought  a  radical  and  disorganizer ;  he  was  contented 


HE   WHO   EXALTETH   HIMSELF.  265 

to  die  on  the  cross,  his  work  only  half  done  ;  contented  to 
appear  to  fail,  and  to  seem  utterly  defeated.  And  therefore, 
because  lie  liumbled  himself,  "  God  has  highly  exalted  him, 
and,"  as  Paul  foresaw,  "  given  him  a  name  above  every 
name."  Before  that  divine  name  of  Jesus,  every  knee  shall 
bow ;  to  his  religion  of  humanity  and  truth,  all  minds  shall 
adhere.  Things  in  heaven  ;  all  that  is  most  lofty  —  the 
saints  of  all  ages,  the  seraphim  with  many  eyes,  and  cheru- 
bim with  wings  to  protect  them  from  the  blaze  of  God's  glory 
—  shall  bow  before  the  simple  human  religion  of  the  Man 
of  Nazareth.  Things  on  earth,  —  science,  art,  literature, 
philosophy,  —  all  shall  come  to  see  in  Jesus  their  Master, 
because  all  of  them,  to  attain  their  ends,  must  follow  the 
laws  he  has  laid  down,  and  work  in  the  spirit  of  his  wisdom 
and  humility  in  order  to  be  exalted.  And  things  under  the 
earth :  the  things  which  have  failed,  which  have  been  lost, 
the  poor  lost  souls,  the  broken  hearts,  the  sinners  who  de- 
spair of  hope,  those  who  have  gone  down  into  the  hell  of 
evil,  and  believe  it  eternal,  these  also  shall  come  to  Jesus  in 
faith  and  a  new  hope.  For  he  has  gone  down  to  find  them, 
he  has  humbled  himself  to  their  needs  also,  and  came  to 
seek  and  save  the  lost. 

The  old  Church  had  an  article  in  its  creed  which  has  since 
become  unintelligible,  and  has  dropped  out  of  it ;  namely, 
that  Christ  descended  into  hell.  I  think,  however,  it  is 
strictly  true.  When  he  was  tempted  in  all  points  as  we,  he 
descended  into  hell.  In  order  thoroughly  to  understand 
man,  and  save  those  who  are  tempted,  it  was  necessary  for 
Jesus  to  go  down  into  the  hell  of  evil  desires  and  passions 
and  wills.  He  was  able  to  sympathize  with  the  hell  of  evil 
in  the  human  heart,  to  know  the  force  of  man's  fiercest  pas- 
sion, his  maddest  rage,  his  infuriate  jealousy,  his  cruel 
hatred,  his  sensuality,  his  falsehood.  Preserved  pure  and 
unstained  from  pollution  by  the  power  of  truth  and  love 
in  his  soul,  he  yet  could,  by  the  largeness  of  his  mind  and 


266  HE   WHO   EXALTETH    HIMSELF. 

heart,  go  down  into  it,  and  in  the  agony  of  the  garden  feel 
all  its  terrible  power.  Therefore,  there  is  no  sinner  so  low 
but  Christ  can  reach  to  him  the  hand  and  help  him.  And  so 
he  becomes  the  Friend  and  Master  also  of  "  things  under  the 
earth ; "  souls  which  have  gone  down  below  the  level  of 
humanity,  and  become  as  the  brutes  which  perish. 

Herein  lies  the  chief  power  of  the  gospel,  —  that  it  goes 
down  to  seek  and  save  the  lost.  It  teaches. that  God  is  essen- 
tially something  higher  than  power  or  law.  God  is  love. 
He  is  the  universal  Father.  He  leaves  the  ninety  and  nine 
good  and  pious  sheep  in  the  wilderness,  and  goes  after  the 
one  wicked  sheep  till  he  find  it.  A  brother  minister  once 
described  God  as  leaving  the  impenitent  to  themselves,  and 
going  away  with  his  saints  to  another  part  of  the  universe, 
and  there  making  a  heaven  for  the  pious,  where  they  could 
have,  I  suppose,  their  little  prayer  meetings  and  innocent 
amusements.  But  the  Lord  Jesus  describes  God  somewhat 
differently.  According  to  him,  God  leaves  the  good  people 
by  themselves,  and  goes  to  find  the  bad  ones. 

If  one  expects  to  have  a  heaven  from  which  any  of  his 
brethren  are  to  be  excluded,  he  will  have  to  dispense  with 
the  company  of  God  and  Christ  in  it,  for  God  and  the  Lord 
Jesus,  the  apostles  and  martyrs,  the  holy  company  of  saints, 
and  the  army  of  heroes  who  have  lived  and  died  to  save 
souls,  these  will  be  all  outside  of  that  exclusive  heaven, 
looking  after  the  lost  sheep  who  have  gone  astray. 

This  is  what  every  true  minister  of  the  New  Testament 
preaches.  Not  a  sermon  shall  he  utter  without  the  savor  of 
this  doctrine.  He  may  preach  hell,  he  must  preach  hell ; 
for  do  we  not  almost  every  day,  of  our  own  free  choice,  go 
into  hell?  But  he  always  adds,  "  If  I  make  my  bed  in  hell, 
thou  art  there."  God  does  not  abandon  his  universe,  nor 
give  up  any  part  of  it  to  rebels  and  traitors  to  make  a  hell 
of  forever.  Why,  when  our  civil  war  began,  and  we  seemed 
helpless  before  it ;  when  we   had  neither  troops  nor  arms ; 


HE    WHO    EXALTETH    HIMSELF.  267 

when  the  rebels  had  seized  and  occupied  the  southern  forts  ; 
when  Europe  took  their  side,  and  gave  them  moral  aid 
and  comfort,  did  the  nation,  *did  Abraham  Lincoln,  its  Presi- 
dent, accept  that  situation,  and  say,  "  Let  them  go  and  make 
a  hell  for  themselves,  by  themselves  ;  a  hell  of  slaveholders 
and  slaves  "  ?  No  :  this  nation  said,  "  We  will  not  give 
up  a  single  shovelful  of  sand  from  the  most  southern  cape 
of  Florida,  not  a  citizen  from  under  the  flag,  though  he  be 
only  a  paralytic  negro  in  a  rice  swamp  of  South  Carolina." 
Do  we  resist  secession  and  rebellion  till  they  are  conquered, 
till  rebels  return  to  loyalty,  and  seceders  become  citizens? 
and  do  we  think  that  God  will  let  us  go  and  not  follow 
after,  through  unnumbered  years  and  unmeasured  worlds, 
till  he  finds  us?  No:  the  new  covenant  teaches  otherwise. 
The  sun  of  our  solar  system  not  only  maintains  all  the 
planets  in  their  orbits,  swinging  on  soft  axle  and  moving  in 
obedient  circles  around  him,  drawing  light  in  their  golden 
urns  from  him,  but  he  also  reaches  out  with  the  long  arm 
of  gravitation  into  outside  spaces,  into  outer  darkness,  seek- 
ing for  the  poor  lost  sheep  Avhich  has  gone  astray  —  the 
forlorn  comet,  a  dim  and  distant  speck.  Myriads  of  miles, 
in  the  depths  of  the  abyss  of  space,  the  wandering  star  has 
gone,  but  the  long  arm  of  gravitation  reaches  it,  and  the 
delicate  fingers  of  that  arm  pick  up  every  smallest  misty 
atom,  and  presently  the  comet  begins  to  move  again  towards 
the  sun,  and  by  and  by  comes  faster  and  loses  its  vagueness, 
and  turns  itself  into  a  planetary  form,  and  flames  in  the 
midnight  sky,  a  wonder  of  beauty.  Does  God  care  that  not 
a  nebulous  mass  of  misty  light  shall  escape  from  the  great 
attraction  of  the  skies,  and  shall  he  allow  a  single  man, 
made  in  his  image,  capable  of  endless  progress,  to  escape 
the  infinite  attraction  of  his  love  forever? 

Seek,  then,  what  is  real.  The  world  is  empty,  barren, 
unsatisfactory,  unless  we  seek  reality  and  truth.  All  suc- 
cess, all  fame,  all  position  otherwise  obtained,  is  an  apple 


208  HE    WHO   EXALTETH    HIMSELF. 

of  Sodom,  which  looks  lovely,  but  Avhen  we  bite  it,  fills  the 
mouth  with  ashes.  Come  to  Jesus,  and  learn  of  him.  Lie 
at  his  feet,  O  child  of  earth,  whose  hopes  have  been  disap- 
pointed, who  hast  found  nothing  good  in  life,  whose  heart 
has  gone  about  to  despair  of  all  its  labor  under  the  sun. 
Life  is  sweet  and  full  of  joy  Avhen  you  look  at  it  aright,  as 
Jesus  did.  Come  to  him  and  he  will  give  you  rest.  Come 
to  him,  not  in  a  mere  profession,  but  by  doing  as  he  did,  by 
following  in  his  steps  ;  loving  the  praise  of  God  more  than 
that  of  men  ;  caring  for  truth  and  substance,  not  for  show  ; 
not  trying  to  exalt  yourself,  but  humbling  yourself  to  do 
good  to  the  most  lowly.  Do  not  run  after  happiness  -or 
pleasure,  but  seek  to  do  good,  and  then  you  will  find  that 
happiness  will  run  after  you.  The  day  will  dawn  full  of 
expectation,  the  night  fall  full  of  repose.  This  world  will 
seem  a  very  good  place,  and  the  world  to  come  a  better  place 
still. 


XXIV* 

RELATION   OF   CHRIST   TO   THE   SOUL. 
1  Peter,  i.  8:    "  Wnoai   having  not   seen,   ye   love;   in  whom, 

THOUGH    NOW    ye     SEE     HIM    NOT,     YET    BELIEVING,    YE    KEJOICE 
WITH   JOY   UNSPEAKABLE,    AND    FULL   OP    GLORY." 

THE  subject  upon  which  I  am  to  speak  to-night  is,  "  The 
Relation  of  Christ  to  the  Soul."  It  is  a  great  and  diffi- 
cult subject ;  so  difficult  that  I  should  not  venture  to  attempt 
it,  had  I  not  long  since  learned,  that  when  we  try  to  do  our 
best,  God  often  says  something  to  the  hearer's  heart  which 
is  better  than  our  thought  and  deeper  than  our  word.  Let 
us,  therefore,  pray  that  while  we  are  speaking  together  on 
this  great  theme,  we  may  be  all  instructed  by  that  Spirit 
which  prefers,  before  all  temples,  the  pure  and  upright 
heart. 

Can  there  be  any  personal  relation  between  our  soul  and 
Christ?  Can  we  reach  across  the  ages,  and  give  him  our 
hand  and  take  his?  Can  we  be  caught  up  (as  Paul  was)  by 
the  Spirit  into  the  third  heaven,  and  meet  Christ,  and  talk 
with  him?  or  is  there  any  one  who  shall  go  up  and  bring 
Christ  down  to  us,  that  Ave  may  see  him,  and  hear  him,  and 
speak  with  him?  When  Jesus  was  in  the  world,  he  said, 
"  Come  to  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  arc  heavy  laden,  and  I 
will  give  you  rest."  We  might  have  gone  to  him  had  we 
been  living  then  ;  but  can  we  go  to  him  now  ?     The  preach- 


*  A  sermon  preached  in  Hollis  Street  Church,  Eeb.  10,  1867. 

(269) 


270  RELATION   OF   CHRIST   TO   THE   SOUL. 

ers  say,  "  Go  to  Jesus  ; "  the  Church  evermore  cries  out, 
"  Go  to  Jesus."  But  what  does  this  mean,  and  how  is  it 
possible  ? 

No  doubt  Christ  may  be  our  teacher  to-day  by  means  of 
the  words  which  he  uttered  eighteen  centuries  ago.  Two 
hundred  millions  of  men  take  their  ideas  concerning  God, 
duty,  and  immortality,  from  Mohammed  and  his  Koran, 
though  he  has  been  dead  twelve  hundred  years.  Three 
hundred  millions  in  China  arrange  their  lives  according  to 
the  notions  contained  in  the  Four  Books,  which  were  written 
by  Confucius  and  Mencius  five  centuries  before  Christ. 
Some  men  take  Plato  for  their  master  in  philosophy  ;  some 
take  Socrates,  Epictetus,  or  Antoninus.  Their  teaching 
guides  our  intellect ;  but  they  themselves  are  in  no  relation 
with  us.  With  Milton  and  Paul  we  have  a  more  personal 
feeling ;  but  still  they  are  standing  on  the  other  side  of  the 
great  gulf  of  years :  we  do  not  know  them  ;  they  do  not 
know  us.  But  about  Christ  we  feel  otherwise.  Somehow, 
it  seems  possible  that  we  should  belong  to  him,  and  he  to 
us ;  that  we  should  know  him,  and  he  know  us  ;  that  we 
should  love  him,  and  he  love  us  ;  be  his  friends,  his  fol- 
lowers, and  be  safe  while  we  are  thus  belonging  to  him. 

Now,  is  there  any  rational  ground  for  this  feeling  and  this 
faith?  To  show  that  there  is,  shall  be  the  subject  of  this 
sermon. 

But  let  me  first  remark  that,  in  supposing  this  to  be  true, 
it  is  not  necessary  to  assume  that  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Supreme 
God-  Many  argue,  with  very  little  logic,  that,  if  we  suppose 
Christ  to  be  so  present  with  his  disciples  everywhere  as  to 
commune  with  them,  he  must  be  omnipresent ;  and  that,  if 
we  suppose  him  to  know  their  thought  and  heart,  he  must  be 
omniscient;  and  that,  if  we  suppose  him  capable  of  saving 
the  souls  of  tliose  who  trust  in  him,  we  arc  assigning  to  him 
Divine  Omnipotence.  But  to  be  spiritually  present  with 
men  in  all  parts  of  the  earth  is  not  to  be  omnipresent ;  for 


RELATION   OF   CHRIST  TO   THE   SOUL.  271 

this  earth,  compared  with  the  universe,  is  but  as  a  grain  of 
sand  compared  with  the  great  globe  itself.  I  am  now  spir- 
itually present  to  all  your  minds  by  means  of  my  voice  and 
your  listening  ears.  If  I  can  be  present  thus  by  my  thought 
at  the  same  moment  to  five  or  six  hundred  persons  in  this 
hall,  why  may  not  higher  spirits,  by  some  higher  medium, 
be  present,  at  once  and  invisibly,  to  thousands  or  millions? 

Nor  need  we  think  it  strange  that  God  should  give  to  one 
created  soul  the  power  to  save  from  sin,  sorrow,  unrest, 
despair,  those  who  take  him  as  their  friend.  Every  day,  in 
Boston,  twenty-five  thousand  children  go  under  the  influence 
of  teachers,  who  exercise  a  wonderful  power  to  lead  them 
upward  into  a  love  of  trlith  and  good,  or  to  leave  them  to  go 
some  other  way.  To  these  teachers  are  given  the  keys  of 
the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and  what  they  bind  on  earth  is 
bound  in  heaven  ;  what  they  loose  on  earth  is  loosed  in 
heaven. 

Many  years  ago,  a  teacher  in  a  country  town  in  Massa- 
chusetts saw  a  boy  come  into  his  school,  whom  he  knew  to 
be  one  of  the  worst  boys  in  town.  He  determined,  if  he 
could,  to  make  a  good  boy  of  him.  So  he  spoke  kindly  to 
him ;  and  the  boy  behaved  well  that  day.  The  next  morn- 
ing, the  prudential  committee  (as  he  is  called)  came  in,  and 
said,  "  Mr.  Towne,  I  hear  that  bad  fellow.  Bill  Marcy,  has 
come  to  your  school.  Turn  him  out  at  once.  He  will  spoil 
the  rest  of  the  boys."  "No,  sir,"  replied  the  teacher;  "I 
will  leave  the  school  if  you  say  so,  but  I  cannot  expel  a  boy 
so  long  as  he  behaves  well."  So  he  kept  him,  and  encour- 
aged him,  and  confided  in  him,  till  Bill  Marcy  became  one 
of  the  best  boys  in  the  school.  And  afterwards,  whenever 
William  L.  Marcy  came  from  Washington,  he  took  pains  to 
go  and  see  his  old  teacher,  .Salem  Towne,  and  thank  him 
for  having  been  the  means  of  saving  him,  and  making  him 
the  man  he  was. 

Now,  in  the  order  of  Providence,  this  teacher  had  the  key 


272  RELATION   OF   CHRIST   TO   THE   SOUL. 

of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  as  regarded  that  boy.  If  he  had 
refused  to  unlock  the  door,  the  poor  child  ^vould,  in  all 
human  probability,  have  been  a  castaway,  so  far  so  this  life 
is  concerned.  God  acts  through  mediums  and  mediators. 
He  puts  his  treasure  into  these  earthen  vessels  of  human 
love. 

Time,  change,  absence,  distance,  break  off  no  genuine 
relations.  The  love  which  the  interposition  of  a  continent 
or  an  ocean  can  dim,  which  the  separation  of  years  can 
alter,  never  was  love.  I  had  a  friend  once  (a  woman),  who 
was  the  friend  of  my  better  nature  ;  who  taught  me  aspira- 
tioB,  taught  me  the  value  of  thought,  made  me  believe  in  the 
worth  of  life,  showed  me  the  joy  of  growth  and  progress  ; 
one  whose  soul  was  so  large,  so  deep,  so  generous,  that  she 
reigned  like  a  queen  among  the  highest  intellects  and  hearts. 
She  left  the  earth,  one  stormy  night,  sixteen  years  ago. 
But  she  is  as  near  to  me  to-day  as  she  was  then.  The  life  I 
live,  the  thoughts  I  think,  the  acts  I  perform,  are  all  colored 
by  influences  which  came  from  her  mind  into  mine.  If  six- 
teen years  cannot  separate  souls,  why  should  sixteen  hundred 
years  separate  them  ?  When  our  friends  leave  us  for  another 
world,  they  are  less  with  us  outwardly,  but  more  with  us 
inwardly.  We  carry  them  with  us  in  our  heart.  The 
mother,  whose  every  thought  turned  towards  her  children, 
we  know  cannot  cease  to  think  of  them  when  she  has  gone. 
They  not  only  remember  what  she  was,  but  feel  wliat  she  is. 
And  if,  on  her  birthday,  they  should  love  to  assemble,  and 
have  a  little  family  feast  to  her  memory,  where  would  be  tlio 
harm?  If,  then,  the  mother's  supper  would  be  so  natural, 
why  should  the  Lord's  Supper  be  so  strange  ? 

The  Lord's  Supper  !  W^hat  a  wonderful  institution  it  is  ! 
What  has  kept  it  alive  these  eighteen  hundred  years  —  this 
ceremony,  so  alien  to  all  our  habits  of  Western  thouglit? 
Wherever  Christianity  extends,  people  come  together,  and 
sit  a  while,  and  take  a  little  bread  and  wine,  in  memory  of  a 


RELATION   OF   CHRIST   TO   THE   SOUL.  273 

young  Syrian  murdered  in  Asia  by  the  order  of  a  Roman 
proconsul.  What  strange  charm  still  holds  us  to  this  poetic 
symbol,  —  us,  the  most  prosaic  of  races,  —  while  empires 
lall,  creeds  change,  philosophy,  science,  art,  and  literature 
are  all  revolutionized?  How  does  he  fascinate  our  heart, 
across  the  weltering  ocean  of  time,  unless  it  be  by  a  personal 
affection,  born  out  of  the  good  we  have  each  received  from 
him  ? 

What,  then,  is  this  personal  relation?  Jesus  described  it 
under  different  figures.  Sometimes  he  is  the  door,  through 
which  we  pass  to  goodness  and  God ;  sometimes  he  is  the 
vine,  into  which  we  are  grafted,  and  the  sap  from  which 
feeds  inwardly  our  life,  and  makes  us  grow  and  bear  fruit ; 
sometimes  he  is  the  good  shepherd,  going  before  us,  while 
we  follow  him  ;  sometimes  he  is  bread  from  heaven  and 
bread  of  life,  on  which  we  feed.  All  these  figures  indicate 
that  he  works  on  humanity,  not  merely  from  without,  as  a 
plastic  power,  to  form,  but  as  an  inward  influence,  to  vital- 
ize. The  language  of  the  apostles  indicates  their  sense  of 
this  double  relation.  Sometimes  they  speak  of  being  in 
Christ,  and  sometimes  of  Christ  being  in  them.  "  If  Christ 
be  in  you  ;  "  "  Christ  in  you,  the  hope  of  glory ;  "  or,  "  If 
any  man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a  new  creature." 

All  this  implies  that  every  Christian  stands  in  a  special 
relation  to  Christ,  and  Christ  to  him.  He  is  a  disciple,  and 
Jesus  his  teacher  ;  he  is  a  soldier,  and  Jesus  his  captain  ; 
he  is  a  sinner,  and  Jesus  his  saviour. 

Now,  is  this  so,  or  is  it  not? 

The  only  question  is  one  of  fact.  There  is  no  reason  to 
doubt  that  there  may  be  such  a  personal  relation  between  a 
soul  on  earth  and  one  in  heaven.  There  is  no  antecedent 
improbability  in  the  assumption  that  God  may  have  com- 
mitted this  work  to  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  to  be  the  central 
human  figure  of  the  human  race,  till  all  mankind  have  been 
brought  to  God  as  a  father,  and  to  each  other  as  brethren. 
18 


274  RELATION   OF   CHRIST   TO   THE   SOUL. 

To  some  one  great  soul  has  always  beeu  assigned  by  Provi- 
dence one  duty  in  history ;  to  another,  a  diiferent  one. 
Socrates  and  ^Plato,  Columbus,  Dante,  Bacon,  Milton, 
Newton,  Shakspeare,  Washington,  Lincoln,  each  has  had  a 
special  work  to  do,  not  for  their  nation  only,  but  the  human 
race.  Moses,  Elijah,  Confucius,  Zoroaster,  Mohammed, — 
these  stand  higher  still,  appointed  to  be  religious  leaders  of 
whole  races  of  men  for  thousands  of  years.  Why,  then, 
may  not  one  have  been  appointed  as  the  central  point, 
towards  which  all  these  rays  of  truth,  goodness,  and  beauty 
shall  converge,  and  find  their  synthesis,  and  he  belong  to 
every  man  and  to  all  time? 

The  only  question  is  one  of  fact.  There  is  no  antecedent 
improbability  in  it.  Has  Jesus,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  per- 
formed this  work  ?  Does  he  perform  it  now  ?  In  every  age 
and  every  land,  it  has  beeu  the  universal  and  profound  con- 
viction of  Christians  that  Jesus  has  been  made  to  them  the 
open  way  to  God  ;  that  through  him,  somehow,  they  find 
forgiveness  ;  through  him,  hope  ;  through  him,  a  new  life  in 
their  heart  and  soul.  They  all  repeat,  out  of  their  own 
experience,  the  words,  "  The  life  I  now  live  in  the  flesh,  I 
live  by  faith  in  the  Son  of  God."  This  is  the  testimony  of 
the  great  intellect  of  Paul,  who  did  the  most  marvellous 
work,  perhaps,  ever  done  on  earth  :  taking  a  Semitic  religion 
from  Syria,  and,  by  transferring  it  to  the  Indo-European 
race,  making  it  a  religion  for  mankind.  "  I  do  all  things 
through  Christ,  who  strengthens  me,"  is  his  declaration. 
So,  also,  testifies  Aurelius  Augustine,  the  fiery  African  soul, 
who  melted  down  by  his  burning  zeal  the  Greek  theological 
speculations,  and  changed  Christianity  again  from  a  creed 
into  a  life.  What  are  the  confessions  of  Augustine  but  one 
prolonged  cry  to  Christ  as  his  Inspirer,  Master,  and  Friend? 
Luther,  whose  words  siiook  all  Europe  to  its  roots,  and 
changed  its  social,  political,  intellectual,  and  moral  condi- 
tions, tells  us  that  all  his  strength,  thought,  love,  came  from 


RELATION   OF   CHRIST   TO   THE   SOUL.  275 

Christ.  And  in  lowly  life,  in  humble  homes,  by  the  bedside 
of  dying  Christians,  the  faith  which  upholds  them  is,  that 
God,  through  Christ,  is  loving  and  forgiving  them.  Shall 
we  set  aside  all  this  great  record  of  human  experience  as 
empty  and  unmeaning?  Shall  we  step  out  of  this  great  cur- 
rent of  Christian  faith,  which  contains  in  it  the  best  life  and 
progress  in  the  world,  and  fall  back  on  the  Vedas,  or  Seneca, 
or  Epictetus?     We  stiffen  and  congeal  when  we  do  so. 

To  substitute  for  Christianity  a  theism  based  on  the  attri- 
butes of  God,  or  a  spiritualism  founded  on  the  doctrine  of 
universal  inspiration,  is  not  to  go  forward  to  a  more  ad- 
vanced position,  but  to  relapse  to  a  lower  one.  The  ampler 
doctrine  is  the  truest.  That  which  accepts  Father,  Son, 
and  Spirit ;  means,  end,  and  substance  ;  Christ  the  way  to 
the  Father  ;  Christ's  work  the  condition  of  the  coming  of  the 
Spirit ;  the  belief  which  does  not  destroy  the  past  creed,  but 
fulfils  it  in  a  higher  form,  —  this  is  that  which  alone  can 
permanently  satisfy  human  wants.  It  is  not  by  dropping 
Christ  that  we  can  reach  God  or  live  in  the  Holy  Spirit. 
For  through  him  we  have  access,  by  the  Spirit,  to  the  Father. 

Perhaps  it  will  be  said  that  this  doctrine  is  not  Unitarian- 
ism  ;  at  least,  not  that  to  which  we  have  been  accustomed. 
Perhaps  not.  All  Unitarians,  so  far  as  I  know,  consider  it 
their  highest  privilege  to  quarrel  with  Unitarianism  ;  why 
should  I  be  deprived  of  that  privilege?  The  essence  of 
Unitarianism  is  freedom  and  progress,  forgetting  things  be- 
hind, and  reaching  out  to  those  before.  Still,  I  think  I  have 
said  nothing  to-night  inconsistent  with  that  one  fundamental 
and  essential  doctrine  of  Unitarianism,  that  the  Father  alone 
is  the  supreme  God,  and  that  Jesus  Christ,  in  his  person, 
was  a  man,  made  in  all  respects  like  his  brethren.  In  re- 
garding him  as  the  central  figure  of  the  human  race,  and  the 
medium  through  whom  life  came  to  every  soul ;  in  consider- 
ing communion  with  him,  through  faith,  the  privilege  of 
every  human  being,  so  that  each  shall  have  in  him  a  personal 


27b*  RELATION    OF   CHRIST   TO   THE   SOUL. 

Friend,  Helper,  and  Saviour,  I  have  said  notliiug  inconsistent 
Avitli  the  e.'rseutial  teachings  of  our  fathers,  though  I  may 
have  carried  their  faith  in  Jesus  farther  and  to  a  higher  plane. 

Some  persons,  however,  seem  to  think  that  it  is  a  deroga- 
tion from  God  to  give  this  place  to  Christ.  They  say,  "J^et 
us  go  at  once  to  God,  without  any  mediator."  So  be  it. 
But  some  of  us  feel  the  need  of  helps,  of  steps,  of  guiding 
influence.  There  are  hours  in  which  God  seems  far  off,  and 
the  heavens  black.  There  seems  a  wall  between  us  and  the 
heavenly  Father.  It  is  the  w^^ll  of  law,  built  up  block  by 
block  out  of  our  own  deeds  ;  and  how  shall  we  pass  through 
it?  If  Christ,  then,  is  a  door,  if  he  opens  the  way  through, 
and  shows  us  the  Father,  shall  we  refuse  to  go  through  the 
door,  because  we  wish  to  "  go  at  once  to  God  without  any 
mediator  "  ?  When  you  have  ditficulties  in  this  life  you  do 
not  refuse  the  advice,  help,  sympathy  of  a  friend  ;  we  do  not 
despise  the  stairs  in  going  to  the  top  of  the  house  ;  we  be- 
lieve in  mediation  as  regards  all  other  things,  why  not  as 
regards  religion? 

The  apostle  Paul,  who  probably  never  saw  Jesus,  except 
in  the  scene  of  his  conversion,  who  declares  that  he  did  not 
know  him  accordinoj  to  the  flesh,  is  among  all  the  New  Tes- 
tament  writers  the  one  who  stands  in  most  constant  intimate 
communion  with  his  Master.  How  he  exhausts  language  to 
express  the  entire  union  of  his  soul  with  that  of  his  Saviour  ! 
"  I  am  crucified  with  Christ ;  nevertheless  I  live  ;  yet  not  I, 
but  Christ  liveth  in  me ;  and  the  life  which  I  now  live  in  the 
flesh  I  live  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God."  "  Of  him  are 
ye  in  Christ  Jesus,  who  of  God  is  made  unto  us  wisdom,  and 
righteousness,  and  sanctification,  and  redemption."  "  God 
hath  shined  in  our  hearts,  to  give  the  light  of  the  knowledge 
of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ."  "  AVho 
shall  separate  us  from  the  love  of  Christ?  Shall  tribulation, 
or  distress,  or  peril,  or  nakedness,  or  sword?"  *' I  am  per- 
suaded that  neither  life  nor  death,  nor  angels  nor  principali- 


RELATIOxN    OP   CHRIST   TO    THE   SOUL.  277 

ties,  nor  powers,  uor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor 
height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate 
us  from  the  love  of  God  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord." 
The  apostle  Paul,  outw^ardly,  was  separated  from  Christ,  just 
as  we  are,  by  the  whole  interval  between  time  and  eternity. 
Yet  the  most  intimate  friendships  of  earth  pale  before  the 
glowing  ardor  of  his  love  to  his  Master.  Need  there  be 
anything  essentially  different  between  our  relation  to  Christ 
and  his  ? 

There  are  hours  in  the  life  of  most  serious  men  in  Avhich 
they  feel  the  burden  of  sin,  the  sense  of  a  diseased  nature, 
the  feeling  of  separation  from  God,  the  feebleness  of  will 
which  resolves,  and  repents,  and  resolves  again,  and  breaks 
its  resolutions,  and  sinks  back  into  the  old  habitual  evil. 
More  than  all  we  feel  the  absence  of  love  —  the  cold,  hard, 
mechanical  nature  of  our  best  goodness.  God  seems  so  far 
off.  Life's  duties  seem  so  hard  and  difficult.  We  need  a 
friend,  a  helper,  one  who  has  been  through  it  all,  and  who  is 
able  to  give  us  something  of  his  courage  and  hope.  In  such 
hours  we  need  Christ.  It  does  not  suffice  to  say  to  us,  "  Go 
directly  to  God."  The  very  difficulty  is,  that  we  cannot  find 
our  Father.  Then,  how  unspeakably  precious  is  it  to  feel 
that  Jesus  Christ  not  only  lives,  but  is  near  us  ;  that  he  is 
not  enjoying  his  triumphant  bliss  away  in  a  distant  heaven, 
but  he  is  watching  to  save  our  souls,  and  to  fill  our  hearts 
with  the  peace  of  God  ;  that  all  he  asks  is  that  we  shall  trust 
him,  believe  in  him,  follow  him  ;  and  that  he  will  help  us  to 
say,  "  My  Father."  In  such  hours  of  darkness  and  bewil- 
derment, I  turn  to  Christ,  not  as  a  past  but  as  a  present 
Saviour ;  not  as  a  distant  friend,  but  as  one  close  at  hand  ; 
not  as  one  who  finished  his  work  eighteen  hundred  years 
ago,  but  as  one  who  is  still  sympathizing  with  us,  still  carry- 
ing our  sorrows,  and  bearing  our  griefs.  This  is  the  truth  in 
the  daily  sacrifice  of  the  mass  in  the  Roman  Church.  It 
shows  Christ  coming  to  us,  every  day,  to  die  anew  for  our 


278  RELATION    OP   CHRIST   TO   THE   SOUL. 

sins.  Considered  as  a  symbol,  it  indicates  a  great  truth  — 
that  Jesus  is  doing  every  day  his  work  of  suffering  love,  of 
divine  sacrifice  for  every  human  soul. 

This,  also,  is  the  truth  in  the  doctrine  of  the  second  coming 
of  Jesus.  At  first  the  disciples  expected  a  speedy  outward 
return  of  their  Master  to  establish  an  outward  kingdom. 
They  misunderstood  the  images  in  which  he  spoke  of  it, 
and  stuck  in  the  unprofitable  letter  of  his  prediction.  The 
Church  has  done  tlie  same,  looking  for  an  outward  coming 
of  Christ  in  the  clouds  of  the  sky,  instead  of  a  spiritual 
coming  in  the  clouds  of  heaven  ;  that  is,  in  the  awful  depths 
and  heights  of  growing  human  convictions,  aspirations,  affec- 
tions. Christ  comes  now  every  day.  When  he  rose  from 
the  dead,  he  rose  out  of  a  visible  and  historic  life  into  an 
invisible,  spiritual  influence.  "  1  go  away,  and  come  to 
you,"  he  said.  Jesus  Christ,  with  all  his  apostles,  and  mar- 
tyrs, and  saints,  with  his  disciples  of  every  age,  have  not 
gone  to  enjoy  a  passive  happiness  in  some  distant  heaven. 
They  are  near  the  earth,  for  his  work  on  earth  is  not  yet 
done.  God's  kingdom  has  not  yet  come,  nor  is  his  will  yet 
done  here  as  it  is  done  above.  Every  knee  has  not  yet 
bowed  to  Christ,  and  love  is  not  yet  triumphant  over  selfish- 
ness and  evil.  The  apostle  says,  "  He  shall  reign  till  he  has 
subdued  all  things  under  him,  and  then  he  shall  give  up  the 
kingdom  to  God,  even  the  Father."  Jesus,  therefore,  is  not 
afar  off;  he  is  near  to  us  all  every  day;  the  head  of  the 
family  in  heaven  and  on  earth :  and,  therefore,  we  may 
believe  in  his  spiritual  nearness  to  each  of  our  souls. 

By  this  view,  do  we  separate  ourselves  from  God?  No; 
but  we  come  all  the  nearer.  When  Christ  comes  to  us,  he 
comes  to  bring  the  Father.  AYe  look  at  him,  and  we  see  the 
Father.  That  is  his  essential  work.  He  is  the  means,  the 
Father  the  end.  We  come  inwardly  to  Christ,  and  pass 
througli  him,  as  through  an  open  door,  to  God.  "  If  any 
man  love  me,"  he  says,  '^  he  will  keep  my  words,  and  my 


RELATION    OF   CHRIST  TO    THE   SOUL.  279 

Father  will  love  him,  and  we  will  come  and  make  our  abode 
with  him." 

In  every  hour  of  sin  we  are  brought  into  relation  with 
Christ.  When  the  spirit  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  weak  ; 
when  the  law  in  the  members  conquers  the  law  of  the  mind, 
and  we  feel  empty,  unnerved,  incapable  of  good,  —  then  we 
say  inwardly  to  Jesus,  "  Brother,  bring  us  to  the  Father. 
We  have  lost  our  Father,  help  us  to  find  him  again.  Help 
us  into  his  peace  and  joy.  Give  us  the  sweet  sense  of  his 
forgiving  and  saving  love."  And  when  we  thus  speak  to 
Christ,  and  invoke  his  help,  the  sense  of  pardon,  peace,  and 
strength  comes,  and  we  say,  '^  When  1  was  weak,  then  I 
was  strong  ;  "  and  because  we  have  been  forgiven  much,  we 
love  much,  and  Jesus  comes  to  be  a  near  and  dear  friend  to 
our  heart  and  soul.  He  is  not  now  a  historic  Christ,  of 
whom  we  read  in  the  gospels,  who  lived  in  Galilee,  and 
worked  miracles,  but  he  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  for 
us,  and  is  with  us  always,  even  to  the  end  of  the  ages. 

Do  you  say  that  this  is  praying  to  Christ,  and  that  we 
have  no  right  to  pray  to  any  one  but  God?  All  prayer 
which  stops  short  of  God  is  idolatrous.  But  what  is  the 
moral  difference  between  asking  favors  of  an  unseen  and 
absent  being,  and  asking  them  of  a  present  being?  We  ask 
spiritual  help  and  comfort  from  our  friends  about  us  here, 
and  that  is  right.  Does  it  become  wrong  to  ask  it  of  those 
who  have  passed  beyond  the  vail?  Not  if  we  have  reason 
to  believe,  as  we  have  in  the  case  of  Jesus,  that  they  have 
power  from  God  to  give  us  the  aid  we  ask,  and  if  all  is  re- 
ceived, not  as  from  them,  but  through  them,  from  God.  The 
Jews  said  that  Jesus  blasphemed  in  forgiving  sin.  "  Who 
can  forgive  sin,  but  God  only?"  But  he  replied  that  "  the 
Son  of  Man  had  power  on  earth  to  forgive  sin."  He  has 
that  power  still,  exactly  as  he  had  it  then,  the  power  to  cora- 
municate  the  sense  of  pardon,  to  reconcile  us  to  God  ;  but  it 
is  a  power  given  him  by  his  Father,  as  he  says,  "  Of  mine 


280  RELATION  OF   CHRIST   TO   THE   SOUL. 

owa  self  I  can  do  nothing;  as  I  hear,  I  judge."  So  when 
we  ask  Christ  for  pardon  and  help,  it  is  asking  it  of  God 
through  him. 

And  in  the  dark  hours  of  sorrow,  bereavement,  and  lone- 
liness, what  a  comfort  to  know  that  we  have  this  invisible 
comforter  and  friend  near  to  us  always.  When  the  dear 
child  is  taken  from  our  arms,  when  the  father  £U3d  mother 
who  loved  us  as  none  else  ever  loved,  have  gone  ;  when  the 
affection  which  made  life  glad  has  turned  to  ice ;  when 
earthly  hopes  have  faded,  when  sickness  weakens  body  and 
mind,  what  a  comfort  to  think  that  we  have  a  friend  in 
Jesus,  who  has  trod  the  narrow  way  before  us,  and  can  sym- 
pathize with  all  human  sorrow. 

This  relation  of  the  soul  to  Jesus,  so  full  of  strength  and 
sweetness,  comes  from  faith  and  obedience.  We  must  be- 
come Christ's  by  following  him,  by  accepting  his  work  as 
ours,  his  aim  as  ours.  We  cannot  do  much  for  him,  but  we 
can  do  something.  We  can  do  something  every  day  to  cause 
him  to  reign  over  human  hearts  and  lives.  If  we  take  an 
interest  in  his  little  ones,  in  his  poor,  his  outcasts,  we  are 
following  him.  We  follow  him  whenever  we  speak  a  kind 
word  or  do  a  kind  act  in  his  name. 

The  work  which  Christ  did,  and  is  doing,  is  to  bring  us  to 
God  and  to  man,  to  reconcile  religion  and  morality,  piety 
and  humanity.  It  is  to  fill  all  of  life  full  of  the  sense  of 
God's  presence  ;  to  remove  all  estrangement,  all  separation  ; 
to  make  the  atonement  which  unifies  man  and  God,  man  and 
man.  This  work  he  does,  not  by  an  outward  process  of 
civilization  mainly,  but  first  of  all  by  sending  this  vital  power 
into  each  individual  soul.  When  we  are  willing  to  follow 
him,  when  we  arc  able  to  trust  in  him,  then  he  becomes  our 
Saviour.  Tiie  love  to  him  springs  up  naturally  and  necessa- 
rily in  the  heart.  Then  he  is  as  near  and  dear  to  us  as  the 
nearest  and  dearest  earthly  friend.  When  he  brings  us  to 
God,  he  makes  the  Universal  Father  also  near  ;  he  gives  us 


RELATION  OF   CHRIST   TO  THE  SOUL.  281 

a  childlike  piety,  which  prays  to  God  without  ceasing,  as  the 
child  prattles  incessantly  to  its  mother  all  day  long.  Follow 
him,  trust  in  him  ;  this  is  the  whole  condition  of  his  influence. 

"  We  follow  thee,  dear  Master, 
Not  only  when,  to-day. 
We  meet  thee  in  the  temple. 
To  read,  and  praise,  and  pray. 

*'  We  follow  thee  to-morrow, 

When,  through  the  busy  street, 
Before,  to  shop  and  office. 
Move  on  the  blessed  feet. 

"And  when,  at  night,  returning 
To  quiet  room  and  chair. 
We  sit  with  those  who  love  us, 
The  Master  's  with  us  there. 

"We  follow  thee,  O  Master, 
Wherever  thou  mayst  go ; 
Through  sunshine  and  through  shadow, 
Through  blessedness  and  woe. 

"  And  ever  tending  upwards 
Along  the  happy  way. 
We  follow  thee  through  age  and  death 
To  heaven's  eternal  day." 


XXV. 

THE  MAN  OF   SIN. 
2  Thess.  ii.  3:    "Let  no  man  deceive  you  by  any  means:   for 

THAT  DAY  SHALL  NOT  COME,  EXCEPT  THERE  COME  A  FALLING 
AWAY  FIRST,  AND  THAT  MaN  OF  SiN  BE  REVEALED,  THE  SON 
OF   PERDITION." 

WHO  the  Man  of  Sin  is  no  one  has  ever  decided. 
Protestants  say  he  is  the  Pope  ;  Catholics  say  he 
is  Martin  Luther  ;  Grotius  said  he  meant  Caligula ;  others 
say  he  was  Simon  Magus,  the  Jewish  war,  Napoleon  Bona- 
parte, or  the  French  Revolution. 

It  is  evident  there  is  no  end  to  such  interpretations.  If 
you  make  the  Man  of  Sin  mean  a  particular  person  or  event, 
you  may  find  five  hundred  in  history,  one  of  which  is  just 
as  likely  to  be  intended  as  another. 

Suppose  we  try  a  different  method.  Perhaps  Paul  did  not 
mean  a  particular  person  or  event,  but  some  evil  principle, 
some  wrong  tendency,  which  was  to  arise.  The  apostle,  in 
his  First  Epistle  to  the  Thessalonians,  had  spoken  of  the 
coming  of  the  Lord  Jesus  as  of  something  near  at  hand, 
as  something  which  he  and  they  might  both  be  alive  to  see. 
In  his  Second  Epistle  he  tells  them  not  to  lose  their  self-pos- 
session, or  to  be  too  much  excited  with  the  expectation  of 
this  coming  of  Christ  as  something  which  was  immediately 
to  take  place.  He  tells  them  that  other  things  must  happen 
lir.iit,  among  which,  especially,  will  be  the  revelation  of  the 

(282J 


THE   MAN   OF   SIN.  283 

Man  of  Sin  and  a  great  apostasy.  It  seems  as  if  he  were 
guarding  them  against  the  effect  of  his  own  previous  letter,  and 
he  says  something  like  this  :  "In  regard  to  the  coming  of  the 
Lord  Jesus,  you  must  not  be  excited  or  disturbed  by  the  be- 
lief that  it  is  close  at  hand.  You  must  not  allow  yourselves 
to  be  persuaded  even  by  anything  which  I  have  said  in  my 
other  letter.  For,  before  Christ  comes,  there  must  first  be 
a  great  apostasy,  and  then  a  revelation  of  the  Man  of  Sin, 
v.'ho  sets  himself  above  everything  that  is  divine,  and  opposes 
all  religion,  and  would  dethrone  the  Deity  and  take  his  place. 
This  principle  of  evil,  this  secret  principle  of  lawlessness, 
is  already  alive  and  active  in  the  Church  ;  but  there  is  a 
power  which  restrains  it,  so  that  it  cannot  become  apparent. 
When  this  restraining  power  is  removed,  then  the  Man  of  Sin, 
the  wicked  one  in  the  Church,  shall  be  revealed.  He  shall 
appear,  accompanied  with  all  power  and  signs  and  false 
miracles,  and  shall  exercise  a  very  deceitful  influence 
over  all  those  who  have  not  the  love  of  truth  strong  within 
them." 

This  passage  in  Thessalonians  has  always  been  regarded 
as  a  difficult  one.  It  is  one  of  the  few  passages  in  the  Paul- 
ine letters  in  which  we  find  an  evident  prediction  of  future 
events.  There  is  another  passage  something  like  it,  — 
1  Timothy  iv.  1,  —  also  prophetical. 

Dr.  Arnold  thinks  this  Man  of  Sin  is  the  principle  of  a 
priesthood,  when  considered  as  the  exclusive  conveyers  of 
spiritual  privileges.  But  perhaps  the  chief  theories  concern- 
ing the  Man  of  Sin,  considered  as  a  principle,  maybe  reduced 
to  two.  First,  the  Protestant  theory,  that  it  is  the  spirit  of 
priestcraft  and  spiritual  despotism  in  the  Church,  especially 
as  manifested  in  the  papacy.  Second,  the  Roman  Catholic 
theory  that  it  is  the  spirit  of  infidelity,  rebellion,  and  lawless 
individualism  in  the  Church,  especially  as  manifested  in  the 
Lutheran  schism  or  reformation.  In  favor  of  the  first,  these 
points  of  the  description  are  relied  on  :  "  He  as  God  sitteth  in 


284  THE   MAN   OF   SIN. 

the  temple  of  God,  professing  to  be  God  ;  "  "  all  power,  and 
signs,  and  lying  wonders,"  &c.  In  favor  of  the  second  the- 
ory these  phrases  are  quoted:  "  It  opposes  itself  to  all  that 
is  called  God,"  that  is,  "  to  all  religion  ;  "  "  all  that  is  wor- 
ship," that  is,  to  the  principle  of  reverence. 

By  examining  what  is  said  more  carefully,  we  shall  see 
that  the  Man  of  Sin  is  a  person,  principle,  or  office,  arising 
within  the  Church,  and  not  outside  of  it.  It  was  to  be  the 
development  of  something  which  already  existed  in  Paul's 
time  in  an  undeveloped  state.  It  was  to  oppose  all  worship 
of  divine  beings,  and  seek  to  draw  to  itself  all  reverence. 
It  is  opposed  to  other  religions  no  less  than  to  Christian 
worship.  It  would  appear  to  possess  supernatural  power, 
and  claim  to  work  miracles.  It  is  a  lawless  spirit,  the  secret 
principle  of  lawlessness.  Its  victims  are  those  who  have  lost 
the  love  of  truth,  and  they  are  easily  deceived,  loving  dark- 
ness better  than  light.  It  is  hostile  to  the  principle  of  rev- 
erence universally.  The  development  of  this  evil  is  restrained 
by  something  else,  —  "  Ye  know  what  withholdeth  ;  "  "  He 
who  now  letteth  (or  hinders)  will  let  till  he  be  taken  out 
of  the  way." 

There  is  something  very  striking  about  this  prediction. 
The  gift  of  prophetic  insight  which  Paul  possessed,  flowing 
out  of  his  spiritual  life,  enabled  him  to  see  deeply  into  the 
principles  which  were  at  work  in  the  Church.  Perfect  in- 
sight was  equivalent  to  foresight.  lie  saw  the  future  folded 
in  the  present,  as  a  plant  is  contained  in  its  germ. 

But  what  then  is  meant  by  the  Man  of  Sin  ?  Is  it  priest- 
craft, .or  is  it  infidelity  ?  Or,  since  priestcraft  is  the  mother 
of  infidelity,  and  tyranny  of  rebellion,  and  since  the  child 
partakes  of  its  mother's  nature,  may  not  the  Man  of  Sin 
include  both?  They  are  the  two  sides,  the  opposite  manifes- 
tations of  the  same  principle.  Tliis  principle  of  self-will 
shows  itself  first  in  the  Church  in  the  form  of  spiritual 
assumption,  and  then  outside  of  the  Church  in  a  spirit  of 


THE   MAN    OF   SIN.  285 

rebellion  and  irreverence,  reacting  against  this  assumption. 
And  the  restraining  power  which  hindered  its  manifestation 
was  doubtless  the  Roman  state,  which  by  persecuting  the 
Church  kept  it  humble.  When  this  restraining  power  was 
removed,  the  principle  of  spiritual  ambition  would  be  de- 
veloped, which  would  be  itself  destroyed  by  the  coming  of 
Jesus :  "  Whom  the  Lord  shall  consume  by  the  brightness 
of  his  coming."  The  history  of  Christianity  has  been  in 
accordance  with  this  prediction.  After  the  Roman  empire 
ceased  to  persecute  the  Church,  the  principle  of  spiritual 
ambition  was  immediately  developed  within  it,  until  the 
priests  claimed  the  right  of  ruling  the  world.  Presently  the 
papacy  grasped  at  secular  power,  gave  away  kingdoms,  and 
put  its  foot  on  the  necks  of  princes.  The  Pope  called  him- 
self God,  and  claimed  a  kind  of  worship.  The  twin  sister 
of  this  spiritual  pride  was  infidelity.  With  the  increase  of 
outward  power  increased  also  inward  unbelief.  And  so  the 
prophecy  was  fulfilled  in  both  of  its  forms. 

But  the  special  and  most  important  principle  in  this  mat- 
ter is  the  fact  that  Paul  speaks  of  the  coming  of  the  Man  of 
Sin  as  something  necessary  before  Christ  could  come.  He 
thus-  shows  that  it  is  a  law,  that  before  we  can  reach  the 
highest  good  the  latent  evil  must  be  manifested.  This  prin- 
ciple applies  to  many  other  things  as  well.  It  is  a  law  which 
runs  through  history  and  human  life.  The  Man  of  Sin  in 
the  Human  Heart,  in  Society,  in  the  Church,  or  in  the  State, 
is  first  restrained,  next  revealed,  and  lastly,  consumed. 

Paul  says.  You  must  not  suppose  that  the  millennium  is  at 
hand,  or  that  Christ  is  coming  to  reign  on  earth  this  year  or 
the  next.  Before  that  kingdom  comes,  and  God's  will  is 
done  on  earth,  there  is  evil  to  be  brought  out  and  conquered. 
There  .is  hidden  evil  in  the  Church,  which  is  now  restrained, 
which  is  to  be  revealed,  and  then  destroyed.  This  is  the 
method  by  which  evil  is  cured. 

The  principle  of  the  divine  government  here  indicated  is, 


286  THE   MAN    OF   SIN. 

that  evil  is  first  Restrained,  then  Revealed,  then  Consumed. 
This  is  the  process  by  which  God,  in  his  providence,  deals 
with  evil.  Let  us  notice  some  illustrations  of  it,  in  the  soul, 
in  the  Church,  in  society,  and  in  the  state. 

I.  In  the  Soul. 

The  Man  of  Sin  in  the  soul  is  first  restrained,  then  re- 
vealed, then  consumed.  The  coming  of  Christ  in  the  heart 
is  usually  preceded  by  the  revelation  of  sin. 

Our  life  begins  with  restraint,  and  freedom  comes  to  us 
very  gradually,  as  we  are  able  to  bear  it.  The  child  is  sur- 
rounded with  bounds  and  limits,  and  this  is  the  best  thing 
for  him. 

We  talk  of  happy  childhood ;  but  what  makes  childhood 
happy?  I  think  it  is  chiefly  that  all  its  law  is  outside  of  it. 
The  restraint  it  complains  of  is  its  chief  blessing.  The  free- 
dom it  sighs  for  will  bring  its  darkest  gloom.  There  is  no 
sense  of  sin  in  the  child's  heart.  It  does  wrong  things,  and 
is  sorry  for  them,  but  is  not  conscious  of  any  wrong  char- 
acter. It  does  not  feel  itself  false,  selfish,  feeble,  fickle, 
mean,  cruel.  All  these  evils,  which  make  up  the  Man  of 
Sin  within  us,  are  yet  restrained  in  the  child,  and  in  the 
childish  man,  by  outward  barriers,  checks,  government. 
Its  outward  bondage  is  its  inward  freedom.  Its  law  is  all 
outside  of  it ;  the  iron  of  that  law  has  not  yet  entered  its 
soul.  The  child  is  like  the  bird  in  the  air ;  like  the  fish  in 
the  water ;  like  the  Newfoundland  dog,  which  runs  or  stops, 
sleeps  or  wakes,  as  it  will. 

It  is  a  great  mistake  which  is  often  made,  to  try  to  give  a 
young  chUd  a  knowledge  of  sin.  He  ought  not  to  have  it, 
and  cannot  really  have  it. 

You  make  a  young  hypocrite  of  him,  in  trying  to  make  of 
him  a  young  saint.  A  child  is  meant  to  be  a  child  :,do  not 
pull  open  with  your  fingers  the  folded  bud  of  his  conscious- 
ness ;  wait  till  the  suns  and  storms,  the  cloudy  and  bright 
days,  unfold  it  voluntarily  and  easily.     Guide,  direct,  instruct 


THE   MAN   OF   SIN.  287 

your  child  ;  sympathize  Avith  him  ;  love  him  ;  amuse  him  ; 
harden  him  by  exposure  ;  toughen  him  by  trial ;  give  him 
habits  of  industry,  patience,  tenacity  ;  but  do  not  try  to  make 
of  him  a  philosopher  or  a  saint.  The  little  saints  in  the 
Sunday  school  biographies  are  not  natural ;  they  are  pale 
and  sickly ;  it  is  a  morbid  state.  I  do  not  mean  that  chil- 
dren should  not  be  religious.  It  is  natural  for  them  to  be 
religious.  But  their  religion  should  be  mostly  that  of  grati- 
tude, trust,  obedience,  and  love,  not  much  that  of  self-exam- 
ination or  confession  of  sin. 

The  time  comes,  however,  and  comes  soon  enough,  when 
the  Man  of  Sin  is  revealed.  Sooner  or  later  we  discover, 
beneath  the  wrong  action,  a  wrong  tendency.  When  the  time 
comes,  it  is  a  good  thing  for  the  Man  of  Sin  to  be  revealed. 
It  gives  us  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil.  It  turns  the 
child  into  the  man. 

In  every  one  of  us  there  are  tendencies  to  evil  as  well  as 
tendencies  to  good.  They  often  grow  out  of  the  same  roots. 
One  man  is  strong,  self-relying,  honest,  truthful,  but  he  is 
hard,  unsympathizing,  cold,  stern.  He  repels  affection,  while 
he  inspires  respect.  But  he  sees  his  good,  he  does  not  see 
his  evil.  He  sees  the  Man  of  Goodness  in  him,  not  the  Man 
of  Sin.  He  shuts  his  eyes  to  all  his  bad  tendencies  ;  he  only 
knows  his  good  tendencies.  So  he  grows  more  and  more 
hard  and  wilful.  He  intensifies  his  evil,  never  knowing  that 
it  is  evil.  What  does  he  need  ?  He  needs  something  to  show 
him  himself.  He  can  see  himself  only  in  one  of  two  ways 
—  by  carrying  the  light  into  his  heart,  or  by  having  his  heart 
come  to  the  light.  If  he  will  not  judge  himself  by  the  law 
of  Christ,  then  he  needs  that  he  shall  see  himself  in  his  own 
actions,  by  doing  something  that  shall  show  him  what  he  is. 
For  example,  I  have  known  such  a  man  as  I  described, 
who  was  a  father,  and  had  brought  up  his  son  carefully  and 
strictly,  and  given  him  a  good  education,  but  finally,  when  the 
son  had  disappointed  his  expectations,  told  him  that  he  could 


288  THE   MAN   OF   SIN. 

do  no  more  for  him,  and  that  now  he  must  shift  for  himself. 
So  the  son  left  his  home,  went  to  another  country,  and  was 
heard  of  by  his  father  as  in  utter  want  and  misery,  but  too 
proud  to  go  back  to  his  home  after  what  his  father  had  told 
him.  So  the  father  had  every  day  to  see  that  his  wife's  heart 
was  broken,  thinking  of  her  lost  and  wretched  son  ;  had  to 
look  in  the  reproachful  faces  of  his  friends  and  children  ; 
had  to  say  to  himself,  "  My  hard  and  unrelenting  will  has 
ruined  my  child."  The  Man  of  Sin  was  revealed  in  him. 
What  nothing  else  could  show  him  of  himself  he  saw  in 
this  outward  consequence  of  his  deed. 

Years  ago  a  lady  came  to  me  one  day  and  said,  "  I  am  a 
sceptic.  I  do  not  believe  in  Christ.  I  believe  in  God,  but 
not  in  the  Bible.  Yet  I  should  like  to  be  a  Christian.  Can 
you  help  me  to  become  one  ?  "  I  heard  her  difficulties.  She 
had  been  taught  that  to  be  a  Christian  one  must  believe  in 
the  literal  inspiration  of  the  Bible  ;  and  because  she  could  not 
believe  in  Joshua  and  the  sun,  and  Jonah  and  the  whale,  she 
supposed  she  ought  not  to  believe  in  Christ.  After  some 
months  of  study  her  difficulties  were  removed.  She  found 
she  was  a  Christian.  She  joined  the  Church,  and  had  her 
children  baptized,  one  of  whom,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  I  did  not 
prevent,  by  baptizing  him,  from  becoming  a  rebel  general. 
But  one  day  her  youngest  child  died.  She  was  in  despair. 
She  rebelled  against  the  will  of  God,  and  said  she  did  not 
think  God  had  any  right  to  treat  her  so.  I  did  not  say  to 
her,  as  Dr.  Kirkland  once  did  on  a  similar  occasion,  "  Well, 
madam,  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?  "  for  that  an- 
swer, though  witty  enough,  never  seemed  to  me  exactly  to 
the  point.  All  I  did  say,  however,  was  apparently  useless. 
But  the  next  day  this  lady  sent  for  me  again.  When  I  came 
in,  I  found  her  composed  and  tranquil.  Then  she  said,  "  I  see 
how  it  is.  When  I  first  tried  to  become  a  Christian,  it  was 
not  from  the  love  of  truth,  but  from  a  secret  fear  that  God 
would  punish  me  for  being  ap  infidel.     And  as  I  loved  my 


THE   MAN   OF   SIN.  289 

children  more  than  anything  else,  I  said,  He  will  punish 
me  by  taking  one  of  my  children.  So  I  thought  that,  if  I 
became  a  Christian,  he  would  leave  me  my  children.  I  was, 
in  fact,  making  a  bargain  with  God.  I  thought  I  was  sub- 
mitting to  his  will,  but  I  was  not.  I  see,  now,  that  I  was 
radically  wrong  all  through,  and  nothing  but  the  loss  of  my 
child  would  ever  have  shown  to  me  the  real  state  of  my 
heart.  Xow  I  see  it  all.  My  child  has  gone  to  God,  and  is 
happy ;  and  now,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  I  am  ready 
really  to  say,  '  Not  my  will,  but  thine  be  done.' " 

Within  a  year  or  two  this  lady  died  in  New  Orleans, 
amid  strangers  —  stern  Presbyterians  ;  but  all  of  them  de- 
clared, that  though  she  was  a  Unitarian,  they  never  saw  a 
death  so  happy,  and  so  full  of  the  peace  of  God,  as  hers. 
All  this  happened  thirty  years  ago.  But  three  years  since, 
sitting  in  a  parlor  of  Willard's  Hotel,  at  Washington,  a  lady 
came  to  me  across  the  room,  and  said,  "  Do  you  remember 
me  ?  "  She  told  me  who  she  was,  —  the  sister  of  this  lady, 
—  and  then  went  on  to  say  that  to  this  hour  those  who  were 
with  her  in  New  Orleans  had  not  ceased  to  speak  with  won- 
der of  the  sweetness  and  strength  and  joy  of  her  last  hours. 

In  childhood  and  youth  we  need  to  have  the  evil  in  us  re- 
strained, but  we  never  become  fully  grown  men  and  women 
till  it  is  revealed ;  till  we  see  our  weakness  as  well  as  our 
strength  ;  till  we  understand  that  every  height  implies  depth  ; 
every  capacity  for  going  up  carries  the  possibility  of  going 
down,  all  natural  goodness  is  allied  to  natural  evil.  There 
are  but  two  methods  of  this  self-knowledge  :  one  is  by  faith- 
fully applying  the  law  of  Christ  to  our  lives  and  our  hearts  ; 
the  other  is  of  having  our  evil  come  out  into  action,  and  see- 
ing it  so.  These  possibilities  of  evil  are  revealed  either  by 
carrying  the  truth  into  the  evil,  or  by  having  the  evil  come 
to  the  truth,  either  by  the  light  going  into  the  darkness,  or 
the  darkness  coming  out  to  the  light. 

II.  So  in  THE  Church,  the  Man  of  Sin  was  first  restrained, 
19 


290  THE  MAN   OF   SIN. 

then  revealed,  and  then  consumed  —  restrained  by  force, 
revealed  by  freedom,  consumed  by  faith  and  love. 

All  the  interpretations  given  by  commentators  may,  as 
we  have  seen,  be  reduced  to  two  —  Protestant  and  Catholic. 
Protestants  consider  tlie  Man  of  Sin  to  be  priestcraft  in 
some  of  its  forms.  Catholics  consider  it  to  be  infidelity  in 
some  of  its  forms.  But  infidelity  is  only  the  reaction  from 
priestcraft.  They  are  the  two  sides  of  the  same  thing. 
Priestcraft  substitutes  form  for  reality,  a  formal  system  of 
ritual  and  ceremony  and  dogma,  in  place  of  truth  and  life, 
and  so  provokes  infidelity. 

When  Paul  wrote  his  first  letter  to  the  Thessalonians,  he 
apparently  thought  that  Christ  was  coming  immediately.  But 
when  he  wrote  his  second  letter,  he  had  gone  down  much 
deeper ;  and  now  he  says,  "  Do  not  believe,  no  matter  who 
tells  you,  even  though  I  may  have  said  it  myself  in  my  first 
letter,  that  the  day  of  the  Lord  is  at  hand.  Before  it  comes, 
the  Man  of  Sin  must  be  revealed.  It  is  to  take  the  place  of 
God,  and  call  itself  God.  At  present  it  is  restrained ;  but 
when  that  which  restrains  it  is  removed,  it  will  be  revealed  ; 
and  after  it  is  revealed  it  will  be  consumed  by  the  coming  of 
Christ."  All  this  has  happened  and  is  happening.  Paul's 
prophetic  insight  saw  the  whole  history  of  the  Cliurch  as  it 
then  lay  folded  in  the  germ.  He  saw  the  principles  at  work 
then  in  the  Church,^and  foresaw  the  results.  For  all  fore- 
sight comes  from  sight,  all  prophecy  of  the  future  from 
insight  into  the  present. 

The  Church  was  then,  like  a  child,  surrounded  with  out- 
ward restraints,  pressed  down  by  the  power  of  Rome, 
obliged  to  be  very  humble,  very  simple.  The  ollicers  of  the 
Clmrch  did  not  pretend  to  any  authority  over  the  brethren  ; 
ritual  and  ceremony  had  not  come  ;  there  were  no  creeds, 
no  dogmas  ;  no  man  thought  his  neighbor  would  go  to  hell 
for  not  believing  as  he  did. 

But  when  the   Church  gi*ew   strong,  and  the  restraining 


THE  MAN   OF   SIN.  291 

power  was  taken  away ;  when  Christianity  came  of  age, 
after  three  hundred  years  of  childhood  ;  when  it  gained  its 
freedom  under  Gonstantine,  and  became  the  religion  of  the 
State,  —  then  the  Man  of  Sin  was  revealed.  Then  came  for- 
malism, dogmatism,  ritual.  Then  came  pomp  and  authority  in 
the  priesthood.  Then,  instead  of  having  God  for  their  re- 
ligion, they  took  religion  for  their  God.  Then,  instead  of 
having  Christ  for  their  leader,  they  took  the  Church.  Then 
came  in  all  the  host  of  holy  men,  holy  days,  holy  books, 
holy  works,  fastings,  prayers,  sacraments,  confession,  celi- 
bacy of  priests.  And  then  came,  as  reaction,  doubt,  infi- 
delity, unbelief,  till  the  very  pope  himself  was  an  atheist, 
and  the  priests  at  the  altar  substituted  low  songs  and  drink- 
ing songs  for  their  masses.  Then  came  the  Reformation, 
and  the  Coming  of  Christ  to  destroy,  by  the  brightness  of 
his  truth  and  love,  this  Man  of  Sin.  The  Reformation  has 
been  going  on  inside  of  the  Catholic  Church  as  well  as  out- 
side of  it.  And  on  the  other  hand,  the  Protestant  Church 
has  not  been  wholly  pure  and  free  from  the  presence  of  these 
evils.  But  Christianity  to-day,  in  all  churches,  is  purifying 
itself  from  priestcraft,  and  therefore  from  infidelity.  For 
the  only  way  to  cure  infidelity,  is  to  make  the  Church  more 
pure,  true,  and  loving.  When  Christians  become  all  they 
ought  to  be,  there  will  be  no  such  thing  left  as  infidelity. 

And  now  1  might  go  on,  and  show  you,  if  I  had  time,  the 
working  of  this  same  law  in  society,  and  in  the  State.  Evil 
is  first  restrained,  then  revealed,  then  consumed.  When 
society  is  in  its  infancy,  it  is  pure,  manners  are  simple, 
habits  of  economy  and  industry  prevail.  Great  contrasts  of 
wealth  and  poverty  do  not  exist.  Men's  desires  are  mod- 
erate ;  excessive  luxury  is  unknown.  But  the  tendencies  to 
these  evils  are  all  there,  only  restrained.  But  as  wealth  in- 
creases in  a  community,  habits  of  luxury  and  extravagance 
increase  too.  The  people  cannot  wait  to  grow  rich  by 
patient  industry ;  they  must   grow  rich  all  at  once.     Then 


292  THE   MAN   OP   SIN. 

comes  speculation  instead  of  regular  business,  gambling  in- 
stead of  sober  industry  ;  finally,  all  sorts  of  swindling,  false- 
hood, knavery,  appear.  The  Man  of  Sin  is  revealed.  But 
the  good  result  is  to  come  out  of  it.  A  community  which  is 
poor  is  virtuous  from  necessity.  When  it  first  becomes  pros- 
perous, it  falls  into  extravagance  and  vice.  But  then  it  is  to 
take  the  third  step,  and  be  weahhy  without  extravagance,  — 
learning  to  use  its  wealth  for  good  objects,  making  all  of  life 
better  and  happier,  founding  good  institutions,  cultivating  taste, 
science,  literature,  art,  —  lifting  up  the  whole  community  to 
a  higher  level.  So  the  Man  of  Sin  shall  be  finally  consumed 
by  tiie  power  of  Christian  truth  and  Christian  love. 

One  more  example  of  this  law  I  will  give  from  its  opera- 
tion in  the  State.  The  Man  of  Sin,  in  our  national  life,  was 
Slavery  —  the  oppression  of  one  race  by  another.  When 
the  nation  was  in  its  infancy,  this  evil  principle  was  re- 
strained by  our  national  weakness  and  poverty.  It  did  not 
show  itself  as  the  evil  it  really  was.  Slaves  in  Massachu- 
setts and  Virginia,  before  the  Revolution,  were  part  of  the 
family,  and  treated  as  such.  But  with  the  discovery  of  the 
cotton-gin,  slaves  became  mere  tools  and  instruments  of  money- 
making,  and  slavery  then  was  revealed  in  all  its  deformity, 
in  all  its  thousand  woes  and  crimes,  its  barbarizing  influences, 
its  tyranny  over  whites  as  well  as  blacks,  till  it  all  culmi- 
nated in  the  rebellion.  But,  meantime,  Christianity  had 
been  building  up  a  great  antagonist  power  of  truth  and  con- 
viction, which  organized  itself  in  a  great  party,  and  after  a 
terrible  struggle  of  thirty  years,  conquered  and  consumed 
Slavery  down  to  its  roots.  Was  not  this  really  a  coming  of 
Christ  in  the  power  of  his  gospel,  a  coming  of  Christ  in  the 
coming  of  a  new  sense  of  justice  and  beauty  in  the  mind  of 
the  nation? 

So  Slavery,  the  Man  of  Sin  in  our  national  life,  was  first 
restrained,  then  revealed,  then  consumed. 

The  working  of  this  great  law  explains  the  slow  progress 


THE   MAN   OP   SIN.  293 

of  society.  All  evils  in  men  must  be  brought  out,  and  be 
seen,  in  order  to  be  conquered.  God  intends  men  and  na- 
tions to  choose  good  freely,  not  to  be  driven  into  it.  But  to 
be  chosen  freely,  it  must  be  seen  and  understood,  and  so 
come  frequent  reactions,  when  the  cure  has  been  imperfect, 
and  evil  principles  remain  lingering  in  the  depths  of  society. 
Thus,  after  the  Commonwealth  in  England,  came  the  resto- 
ration of  Charles  II.,  because  there  remained  a  worship  of 
royalty  in  the  nation's  heart,  which  needed  to  be  brought  out 
and  consumed.  After  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  and  James 
II.,  there  remained  no  more  of  it,  and  the  king  of  England 
since  has  been  respected  as  the  head  of  the  State,  but  not 
as  having  any  divine  right  to  the  throne. 

So  it  was  necessary  that  Napoleonism  in  France  should 
be  brought  out,  and  consumed ;  and  this  has  been  done 
effectually  by  Napoleon  III.  After  him,  there  will  be  no 
more  worship  of  Napoleonic  ideas.  So,  too,  the  papacy  has 
lingered,  until  the  last  belief  in  the  divine  authority  of 
priests  and  sacraments  shall  have  come  to  the  light,  and  be 
consumed  and  destroyed. 

Every  evil,  in  order  to  be  cured,  must  be  brought  to  light, 
or  have  light  brought  to  it.  Light,  Christian  light,  which  is 
light  and  love  together,  is  the  only  cure.  The  Man  of  Sin, 
therefore,  must  be  revealed,  whether  he  is  in  the  Heart,  in 
Society,  in  the  Church,  or  in  the  State.  There  are  two  ways  : 
one  is  that  of  self-scrutiny,  self-knowledge,  by  carrying  the 
light  in,  so  producing  genuine  penitence,  hatred  of  evil,  love 
of  good.  This  is  one  way.  The  other  is  to  have  the  evil 
brought  out,  made  manifest ;  and  this  is  what  is  meant  by  the 
judgment  to  come,  or  the  judgment  of  the  last  day.  Every 
evil  has  its  day  of  judgment,  its  last  day,  some  sooner,  some 
later.  There  are  many  last  days,  many  days  of  judgment. 
S'lavcry,  for  example,  in  this  country,  has  had  its  last  day, 
its  day  of  judgment,  and  has  forever  come  to  an  end. 

But,  "  if  we  judge  ourselves,"  says  the  Scripture,  "  we 


294  THE   MAN    OF   SIN. 

shall  not  be  judged."  If  a  nation  judges  itself,  it  will  not 
be  judged.  If  this  nation  had  put  away  its  evil  by  voluntary 
emancipation,  it  would  have  escaped  civil  war.  If  a  man 
looks  into  himself,  and  sees  the  evil  in  him,  and  repents  and 
forsakes  it,  then  he  will  not  need  to  be  judged  by  having  this 
evil  principle  break  out  into  some  terrible  crime  or  some  low 
vice.  The  Man  of  Sin  must  be  revealed  ;  but  he  need  not 
be  revealed  by  outward  disaster,  shame,  disgrace,  and  ruin, 
if  we  are  willing  to  obey  the  great  command,  in  which  the 
highest  pagan  wisdom  concurs  with  the  words  of  Christian 
faith  —  the  great  command,  Know  thyself. 


MELCHIZEDEK  AND   HIS  MORAL. 
Heb.  V.  10 :  "  The  order  of  Melchizedek." 

THE  mysterious  person  called  Melchizedek  has  been 
treated  and  maltreated  by  typologists  to  that  extent 
that  nearly  all  human  meaning  has  gone  out  of  him,  and  to 
most  imaginations  he  appears^  as  a  mythical  character,  half 
theological  and  half  supernatural.  When  a  man  gets  to  be 
regarded  as  a  type,  —  that  is,  merely  the  shadow  of  some 
one  else,  cast  backward,  —  his  interest  to  sensible  persons 
must  be  very  much  diminished.  Now,  our  poor  friend  Mel- 
chizedek has  been  triumphantly  claimed  by  all  type-loving 
writers  as  a  type ;  that  is,  an  incarnated  prophecy  of  Christ, 
sent  two  thousand  years  before  his  coming,  to  signify  what 
sort  of  a  person  he  should  be.  Believing  this,  the  whole 
man  is  only  a  fantastic  apparition,  and  ceases  to  belong  to 
history. 

But  if  we  can  show  that  Melchizedek  was  a  real  human 
being,  belonging  to  his  time  and  place,  exactly  such  as  are 
still  to  be  found  in  that  region,  and  that  he  was  in  no  sense 
a  type  of  Christ,  or  sent  to  foreshadow  him,  but  that  he  and 
Christ  were  both  types,  or  impressions,  of  one  great  law, 
and  illustrations  of  one  divine  truth,  then  we  think  we  shall 
have  restored  a  little  interest  to  this  old  Arab  priest  and 
king  by  relegating  him  to  the  ranks  of  our  common  hu- 

*  Printed  in  the  "Monthly  Religious  Magazine,"  July,  18G7. 

(295) 


296  MELCHIZEDEK   AND   HIS  MORAL. 

manity.  This,  therefore,  we  propose  to  do  in  the  present 
paper. 

Tlie  first  mistake  made  about  him,  then,  was  to  assume 
that  "  Melchizcdek,  King  of  Salem,"  gives  us  the  name  and 
residence  of  the  man,  whereas  both  are  his  official  titles. 
His  name  we  do  not  know :  his  office  and  title  had  swal- 
lowed it  up.  "  King  of  Justice,  and  King  of  Peace,"  —  this 
is  his  designation.  His  office,  as  we  believe,  was  to  be  um- 
pire among  the  chiefs  of  neighboring  tribes.  By  deciding 
the  questions  which  arose  among  them,  according  to  equity, 
he  received  his  title  of  "  King  of  Justice."  By  thus  pre- 
venting the  bloody  arbitrament  of  war,  he  gained  the  other 
name,  —  "  King  of  Peace."  All  questions,  therefore,  as  to 
where  "  Salem "  was,  fall  to  the  ground.  Salem  means 
*'  peace  ;  "  it  does  not  mean  the  place  of  his  abode. 

But,  in  order  to  settle  such  disputes,  two  things  were 
necessary,  —  first,  that  the  surrounding  Bedouin  chiefs 
should  agree  to  take  him  as  their  arbiter ;  and,  secondly, 
that  some  sacredness  should  attach  to  his  character,  and 
give  authority  to  his  decisions.  Like  others  in  those  days, 
he  was  both  king  and  priest ;  *  but  he  was  priest  "  of  the 
Most  High  God,"  —  not  of  the  local  gods  of  the  separate 
tribes,  but  of  the  God  whom  their  gods  worshipped.  That 
he  was  the  acknowledged  Jirbiter  of  surrounding  tribes,  ap- 
pears from  the  fact  that  Abraham  paid  to  him  tithes  out  of 
the  spoils.  It  is  not  likely  that  Abraham  did  tliis  if  there 
were  no  precedent  for  it ;  for  he  regarded  the  spoils  as  be- 
longing, not  to  himself,  but  to  the  confederates  in  whose 
cause  he  fought.  No  doubt  it  was  the  custom,  as  in  the 
case  of  Delphos,  to  pay  tithes  to  this  supreme  arbiter ;  and, 
in  doing  so,  Abraham  was  simply  following  the  custom. 

All  this  is  so  natural  and  probable,  that  the  wonder  is  that 

♦  See,  for  example,  ^noid,  ix.  327  :  — 

"Kex  idem,  et  rogi  Turiio  gnitissimus  uugur." 


MELCHIZEDEK    AND    HIS   MORAL.  297 

it  should  not  have  been  noticed  before.  Yet,  so  far  as  we 
know,  the  Bible  Dictionaries  and  Commentaries  have  told 
us  nothing  of  this  sort.  It  is  not  suggested  by  Smith  nor 
by  Robinson  in  their  Bible  Dictionaries,  in  their  articles  on 
the  subject,  nor  by  Stanley  in  his  "  History  of  the  Jewish 
Church."  As  far  as  I  know,  it  is  my  own  hypothesis  ;  but 
that  which  was  only  a  probable  hypothesis  became  to  me 
almost  a  certainty,  when  I  found,  in  the  Jewish  traveller 
Wolff,  a  statement  that,  in  Mesopotamia,  a  similar  custom 
prevails  at  the  present  time.  One  Sheik  is  selected  from 
the  rest,  on  account  of  his  superior  probity  and  piety,  and 
becomes  their  "  King  of  Peace  and  Righteousness."  A 
similar  custom,  I  am  told,  prevails  among  some  Ameri- 
can tribes.  Indeed,  where  society  is  organized  by  clans, 
subject  to  local  chiefs,  some  such  arrangement  seems  neces- 
sary to  prevent  perpetual  feuds. 

This  personage,  whose  office  I  have  stated,  appears  three 
times  in  the  Bible,  —  once,  historically,  in  the  Book  of  Gen- 
esis ;  once,  poetically,  by  allusion  in  the  Psalms  ;  and  once, 
logically,  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews. 

He  appears,  historically,  for  a  moment,  in  the  story  of 
Abraham,  blessing  him  after  battle.  It  would  be  a  very 
Btrange  thing  for  him  to  do,  unless  he  had  some  such  official 
position  as  I  have  suggested.  He  comes  from  no  one  knows 
where,  goes  no  one  knows  whither,  his  residence  not  men- 
tioned, his  name  not  known,  his  descent  not  described  nor 
recorded.  The  reference  to  him  in  the  Book  of  Psalms  and 
in  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  I  will  consider  hereafter  ;  but 
now  I  shall  try  to  accomplish  my  purpose  of  giving  some 
color  and  vitality  to  our  friend,  who  figures,  even  in  Stanley, 
as  a  semi-spectral  character,  wrapped  round,  as  he  says,  "in 
that  mysterious  obscurity  which  has  rendered  his  name  the 
symbol  of  all  such  sudden,  abrupt  apparitions,  the  interrup- 
tions, the  dislocations,  if  one  may  so  say,  of  the  ordinary  even 
succession  of  cause  and  efiect."  Let  us,  then,  read  again 
the  story  of  Abraham   and   Melchizcdek. 


298  MELCHIZEDEK   AND    HIS   MORAL. 

Not  far  from  the  great  range  of  Mt.  Caucasus,  which  rises 
like  au  enormous  wall,  running  from  the  Caspian  to  the 
Black.  Sea,  lie  the  head  waters  of  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris. 
There,  four  thousand  years  ago,  lived  a  Bedouin  Sheik, 
among  the  Chaldees,  whom  men  called,  for  his  piety.  The 
Friend  of  God,  or,  sometimes  more  reverentially,  The 
Friend.  Among  those  Arab  tribes  manners  do  not  change. 
We  know  just  how  he  lived  then,  —  how  he  rested  at  noon 
in  his  black  tent,  with  his  chief's  cloak  of  brilliant  scarlet,  a 
loose  handkerchief  bound  round  his  head  with  a  fillet  of  rope, 
and  a  spear  in  his  hand  to  guide  the  march  by  day  and  fix 
the  place  of  the  camp  at  evening.  His  wife,  the  princess  of 
the  tribe,  is  there  in  her  ov.-n  tent,  making  the  cakes,  getting 
ready  the  meal  of  milk  and  butter ;  the  slave  is  there  to 
bring  the  soup  of  lentils  for  the  hunter.  The  great  telescope 
at  Cambridge  brings  the  moon  to  within  a  hundred  miles  of 
us  ;  but  the  telescope  of  history,  as  we  look  through  it, 
brings  up  that  little  picture  of  the  "Friend  of  God"  from 
four  thousand  years  away,  and  we  see  him  face  to  face. 

This  good  man  lived  among  idolaters.  He  could  not  wor- 
ship their  gods.  He  used  to  look  at  the  great  heavens  at 
night,  studded  with  unnumbered  stars,  and  saw  that  there 
was  one  great  Supreme  Being,  who  made,  as  Napoleon  said, 
"  all  that."  It  was  borne  into  his  mind  that  he  must  go 
away  and  find  a  place  where  he  could  live  far  from  idols, 
and  bring  up  his  children  to  worship  one  great  God  —  the 
God  of  the  heavens  and  earth.  And  then  the  vision  dawned 
to  him  of  a  nation  of  which  he  should  be  the  father,  all 
Avorshipping  the  one  great  God.  At  last  the  voice  in  his 
soul  spoke  so  strongly  that  he  must  obey.  He  told  the  ser- 
vants to  load  the  camels,  and  he  left  his  home,  his  old  neigh- 
bors, the  familiar  sight  of  the  snowy  mountain  range,  the 
bhie  waters  of  the  lonely  mountain  lake,  and  moved  away. 

The  same  thing  happens  every  year  in  each  of  our  New 
KngUind  villages.     Young  men,  and  men  of  middle  age,  are 


MELCHIZEDEK   AND   HIS   MORAL.  299 

moved  to  go  out  West,  and  found  a  new  home  ;  and  they  go. 
Sometimes,  doubtless,  it  is  the  voice  of  mere  ambition  ;  but 
often  it  is  a  secret  instinct,  telling  them  that  their  work  in  the 
world  is  not  merely  to  carry  on  the  old  routine,  but  to  go  to 
some  larger,  freer  place,  and  there  find  out  what  they  can  do 
for  God  and  man.  So  they  believe  the  inner  i^nstinct,  and 
go.     So  Abraham  believed  it,  and  went. 

Two  things  he  believed,  —  and  he  clung  to  his  belief  all 
his  life,  —  something  not  seen  ;  he  had  no  outward  evidence 
of  it,  only  the  deep  conviction  of  his  soul,  —  one,  that  the 
land  of  Palestine  should  belong  to  his  family  and  descendants 
forever  ;  the  other,  that  his  family  should  be  like  the  stars 
of  heaven  in  number,  and  that  he  should  be  the  Father  of 
the  Faithful.  In  that  conviction  he  lived,  and  in  that  con- 
viction he  died.  When  he  died,  he  had  little  more  to  show 
for  it  than  at  first.  All  the  land  he  owned  in  Palestine 
when  he  died  was  just  a  little  piece  of  ground  which  he  had 
bought  for  Sarah's  tomb  to  stand  on.  All  the  great  family 
he  believed  to  be  coming  was  comprised  in  one  son,  the  child 
of  his  old  age.  He  lived  by  faith,  he  died  in  faith  ;  his  faith 
was  "  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,"  and  "  the  evidence 
of  things  not  seen."  The  only  evidence  he  had  of  his  great 
hope  was  that  he  could  not  help  believing  it.  But  if  he  had 
not  believed  it,  and  believed  it  so  firmly,  it  never  would  have 
come.  If  he  had  thought  it  wise,  as  men  do  now,  to  believe 
only  in  positive  knowledge,  and  trust  only  the  evidence  of 
his  five  senses,  he  would  have  lived  and  died  an  Arab  Sheik 
in  Mesopotamia,  and  never  been  heard  of  after.  He  would 
not  have  been  the  "  Friend  of  God,"  nor  the  "  Father  of  the 
Faithful"  through  all  time. 

In  the  spring  of  the  year,  if  you  wish  to  put  a  post  into 
the  ground,  you  take  a  pickaxe  and  a  crow-bar,  and  strike 
the  flinty  sod,  and  make  a  hole  for  it.  To  put  that  dead 
stake  into  the  ground,  you  must  take  an  iron  crow-bar.  But 
when  God  wishes  to  cause  some  living  thing  to  grow  up  out 


300  MELCHIZEDEK   AND   HIS   MORAL. 

of  tlie  ground  towards  heaven,  he  makes  the  little  seed  send 
up  a  little  folded  stalk,  so  tender  that  you  would  say  it  could 
not  get  through  a  bit  of  mould ;  but  somehow  it  pushes  its 
way  up,  the  little  tender  thing,  and  at  last,  after  many  years, 
it  becomes  a  monarch  tree,  covering  half  an  acre  with  its 
mighty  shadow.  So  differently  in  this  world  do  human  wis- 
dom on  one  side,  divine  faith  on  the  other,  accomplish  their 
work. 

AVhen  Abraham  had  been  some  time  in  Palestine,  news 
came  to  him  that  his  cousin  Lot  had  been  robbed,  and  his 
family  carried  off,  by  a  body  of  robber-tribes,  who  had  made 
a  raid  into  the  rich  valley  of  the  Jordan,  and  plundered  the 
city  of  Sodom.  Abraham,  generous  and  loyal  heart,  would 
not  forsake  his  friend,  the  rich  merchant  of  Sodom,  but 
armed  his  servants,  pursued  the  plunderers,  and  when  they 
were  expecting  no  such  danger,  fell  on  them  suddenly  in  the 
gray  dawn,  attacking  their  camp  on  two  sides  at  once,  and 
took  back  Lot,  and  all  the  captives  and  plunder.  But  now 
comes  the  incident  in  which  we  are  chiefly  interested. 

The  wild  tribes  of  the  desert,  knowing  no  law  but  their 
own  will,  are  yet  forced,  as  we  have  said,  by  the  absolute 
necessities  of  human  life,  to  organize  justice  in  some  loose 
form.  Then  and  now,  they  adopted  and  adopt  the  custom 
of  selecting  some  arbiter  of  their  disputes.  They  chose  a 
man  for  his  justice  and  piety,  finding  one  who  was  true  to 
God  and  to  his  neighbor.  Him  they  called  their  Melchi-Zedek 
and  Melchi-Salem, —  their  "King  of  Justice  and  Peace," 
—  and  made  him  their  judge  of  international  law.  To  show 
his  approval  of  Abraham's  course  in  this  matter,  he  gave 
bread  and  wine  to  the  party,  and  pronounced  a  blessing  on 
the  whole  proceeding  "  in  the  name  of  the  Most  High  God, 
Possessor  of  heaven  and  earth."  And  Abraham,  in  cor- 
responding token  of  a  recognition  of  his  position,  gave  him 
tithes  of  the  spoils. 

Tluis   far  all   is  human   and  natural   in  the  transaction. 


MELCHIZEDEK    AND    HIS    MORAL.  301 

The  question  now  comes  of  the  references  to  the  event  in  the 
Psalms  and  in  Hebrews. 

The  one  hundred  and  tenth  Psalm  would,  no  doubt,  be  sup- 
posed to  refer  to  David,  were  not  the  Messianic  character 
ascribed  to  it,  apparently,  by  Christ  himself  (Matt.  xxii.  41, 
and  the  parallels).  The  whole  Psalm  seems  a  triumphant  as- 
cription to  David  of  great  victories  and  conquests.  Neander, 
however,  says  that,  if  Jesus  named  David  as  its  author,  we 
are  not  shut  up  to  the  alternative  of  detracting  from  his  in- 
fallibility, or  admitting  that  David  really  wrote  it,  since  the 
question  of  authorship  was  immaterial  to  his  purpose. 

The  Psalm  ascribes  the  power  of  royal  conquest  to  the 
help  of  Jehovah.  The  king's  sceptre  reaches  out  of  Zion, 
the  holy  habitation  of  God.  His  enemies  are  subject,  his 
people  submissive.  The  dew  of  youth  returns  to  him.  He 
has  become  priest  and  king  at  once.  He  sits  on  the  right 
hand  of  God^  for  Zion  holds  both  royal  palace  and  the  holy 
tabernacle.  Jehovah  smites  before  him  the  hostile  kings. 
He  marches  on  his  way,  drinking  of  the  brooks  freely  in  the 
land  of  his  foes,  and  filling  their  valleys  with  the  slain. 

But  here,  in  this  Psalm,  first  occurs  the  phrase  of  which 
the  writer  to  the  Hebrews  afterwards  made  such  good  use. 
David,  or  the  son  of  David,  is  a  priest,  not  after  the  order 
of  Aaron,  but  after  that  of  Melchizedek.  He  could  not  be  a 
priest  genealogically  ;  for  he  was  descended  from  Judah,  not 
from  Levi.  But  he  could  be  a  priest  spiritually,  just  as  Mel- 
chizedek was  a  true  priest,  though  without  any  genealogy, — 
descended  from  no  one,  having  neither  father  nor  mother, 
having  no  pedigree,  his  birth  not  mentioned,  his  death  not 
mentioned,  —  without  beginning  of  days  or  end  of  life. 

Thus  it  appears  that  even  as  far  back  as  the  times  of 
David  the  prophetic  spirit  which  inspired  this  Psalm  taught 
that  tlicie  were  two  kinds  of  priests,  —  the  priests  by  tradi- 
tion and  the  priests  by  inspiration.  These  two  kinds  have 
always  continued,  and  exist  to-day,  both  of  them  useful,  but 


302  MELCHIZEDEK   AND   HIS   MORAL. 

the  inspired  priesthoorl  alone  being  the  Christian  priesthood, 
the  other  only  a  pale  reminiscence  of  Judaism. 

Look,  first,  at  — 

I.     The  Priesthood  of  Tradition,  or  of  Aaron. 

Tiiis  appears  in  history  in  the  three  forms  of — 1.  A 
Genealogical  Priesthood  ;  2.  A  Corporate  Priesthood  ;  3.  A 
Clergy. 

1.  The  priesthood  of  Aaron  was  transmitted  by  genera- 
tion. To  be  a  priest,  one  must  be  born  of  a  priest,  just  as  to 
be  a  British  nobleman  one  must  be  born  of  a  nobleman.  It 
was,  therefore,  necessary  to  keep  accurate  genealogical  tables, 
so  as  to  be  sure  that  the  tradition  of  hereditary  qualities  by 
birth  might  be  secured. 

This  is  the  most  absolute  form  of  the  priesthood  of  tradi- 
tion, and  it  is  probably  based  on  the  observed  fact  that  there 
are  hereditary  qualities,  which  are  transmissible  in  families. 
The  superiority  of  certain  races,  in  man  and  anfmals,  has  long 
been  observed.  Hence,  even  to  this  day,  the  wool-growers 
of  Syria  pack  Avith  their  bales  of  wool  a  copy  of  the  pedigree 
of  the  flock  from  which  it  came,  and  the  Arabs  religiously 
preserve  the  pedigree  of  their  horses.  The  sons  of  a  good 
man  are  more  likely,  other  things  being  equal,  to  be  good 
men.  This  genealogical  priesthood  has  even  appeared  in 
Puritan  New  England,  and  certain  families,  like  the  Abbots, 
Aliens,  Beechers,  Stearnses,  Peabodys,  seem  to  constitute 
almost  an  hereditary  priesthood. 

2.  21ie  Corporate  Friesthood  does  not  claim  to  transmit 
qualities  by  birth,  but  only  by  admission  into  a  close  corpora- 
tion. This  is  the  claim  of  the  Roman  Catholic  priesthood, 
the  High  Church  of  England,  and  some  Oriental  bodies,  as 
the  Greek  Church,  Copts,  and  Armenians.  One  becomes  a 
priest  by  being  in  the  corporate  line  of  transmissible  qualities. 
These  are  not  transmitted  by  generation,  but  by  ceremonial 
contact.  The  thing  to  ascertain  about  a  man,  to  see  if  he 
be  really  a  priest,  is  this:  lias  he  been  properly  admitted 
into  the  corponition  by  the  usual  ceremonies i* 


MELCHIZEDEK   AND    HIS   MORAL.  303 

Now,  there  is  a  certain  foundation  even  for  this  view. 
Every  corporate  body  lias  its  own  spirit,  into  which  all  its 
members  are  more  or  less  baptized.  By  association,  by  in- 
tercourse, by  belonging  to  the  brotherhood,  some  spiritual 
qualities  are  communicated  and  received.  Thus,  in  the 
Methodist  body,  there  is  a  certain  tone  of  Methodism  ;  in 
the  Unitarian  body,  a  Unitarian  tone,  and  so  on. 

3.  A  Clergy.  As  long  as  the  distinction  between  clergy 
and  laity  exists,  so  long  there  remains  something  of  the 
priesthood  of  Aaron,  or  tradition,  though  only  in  its  lowest 
form. 

Here,  in  New  England,  the  clergy  has  from  the  earliest 
times  been  distinguished  from  the  laity  by  certain  palpable 
signs,  transmitted  by  fashion  and  example  from  age  to  age. 
Some  sobrieties  of  dress,  of  tone,  of  manner,  indicate  the 
minister.  Even  his  pronunciation,  in  some  denominations, 
seems  affected  by  his  ecclesiastical  character.  Thus,  we 
observe  that  there  is  a  ministerial  way  of  pronouncing  the 
adjective  "  great,'*  as  though  it  were  written  "  gra-a-aie." 
And  so,  also,  it  is  thought  clerical  to  say  "  Sabhath,^'  instead 
of  Sunday  ;  or  to  remark,  "  We  have  been  favored  with  fine 
weather  lately,"  instead  of  the  more  secular  statement,  "  Nice 
time  for  the  crops." 

Now,  there  may  be  some  advantages  about  this  transmitted 
fashion  of  clerical  behavior.  The  clerical  neckcloth  has  dis- 
appeared. No  minister  now  w^alks  through  the  streets  of 
Boston  on  Sunday  with  his  black  gown  floating  to  the  breeze. 
Yet  it  may  be  well  for  ministers  to  have  a  deportment  some- 
what toned  down  by  the  serious  work  of  their  lives  ;  and  we 
cannot  admire  the  efforts  made  by  some  of  the  clergy  to 
escape  the  least  suspicion  of  the  manners  of  their  order. 

II.  The  Priesthood  of  Melchizedek,  or  Inspira- 
tion. 

However  valuable  may  be  the  priesthood  of  transmission, 
it  is  certain  that  Jesus  had  none  of  it.     He  came  eating  and 


804  MELCHIZEDEK    AND    HIS   MORAL. 

drinkiup;,  talking,  ^vorking,  dining  with  Pharisees  and  Pub- 
licans, making  himself  the  friend  of  Samaritans  and  sinners, 
making  wine  for  tlie  marriage,  and  violating  all  LeviticalJaws 
concerning  the  Sabbath,  ablutions,  and  distinctions  of  meats. 
His  priesthood  was  plainly  meant  to  be  wholly  different  from 
that  of  Aaron.  It  lay  not  at  all  in  conformity  to  any  habits 
or  usages.     It  was  original  throughout. 

This  entire  separation  of  Jesus  from  all  the  old  ways  has 
never  been  adequately  recognized.  It  is  one  of  the  most 
amazing  facts  in  all  history,  —  this  radicalism,  so  thorough, 
and  yet  so  quiet.  It  ran  below  the  roots  of  all  institutions, 
and  yet  never  sounded  a  trumpet  before  it,  proclaiming, 
"  See,  all  men,  what  a  Radical  I  am !  " 

The  world  is  carried  on  by  these  two  great  forces,  —  In- 
spiration and  Method.  Inspiration  makes  all  things  new. 
Method  gathers  up,  arranges,  and  saves  every  old  thing  of 
any  value.  We  need  them  both.  Inspiration  finds  the  way, 
method  builds  a  road  on  it  when  found.  One  is  soul ;  the 
other,  body.  Body  without  soul  is  only  a  corpse  ;  soul  with- 
out body  is  nothing  but  a  gliost.  But  method  is  apt  to  get 
very  hard  and  rigid  after  a  while,  and  so  has  to  be  broken 
up.  Method  is  excellent  when  it  is  a  track,  bad  when  it 
becomes  a  rut.  It  is  a  good  thing,  in  crossing  one  of  the 
great  Western  prairies,  where  there  is  neither  road,  fence, 
farm,  nor  house,  but  one  great  rolling  ocean  of  green  and 
flowers,  —  it  is  a  good  thing  to  have  a  track  to  follow,  and 
not  be  obliged  to  steer,  as  men  often  do,  by  the  compass. 
But  when  this  track,  going  through  wet  places,  has  become 
deep  ruts,  then  we  leave  it,  make  a  circuit,  and  drive  out  into 
the  open  prairie  for  a  while,  and  make  a  new  track  for  our- 
selves. So,  from  time  to  time,  when  method  grows  too 
rigid,  and  order  becomes  a  stiff  routine  ;  when  religion, 
e(hicati()n,  or  j)olitics  fall  into  ruts,  we  must  go  back  to 
iuspirntion^  and  nuike  a  new  pathway  through  the  unknown 
towards  trutli  and  good. 


MELCHIZEDEK  AND  HIS  MORAL.         305 

Some  very  good  raetliods  had  been  established  in  the  Jew- 
ish Church.  The  great  institution  of  the  priesthood  was 
such  a  method.  For  one  thing,  it  put  a  stop  to  polytheism, 
idolatry,  and  the  worship  of  a  multitude  of  local  gods,  by 
having  one  great  central  worship  at  Jerusalem,  so  grand  and 
imposing  that  it  made  Jehovah  supreme  in  every  Jewish 
mind.  It  made  an  order  of  priests  whose  interests,  whose 
convictions,  whose  habits,  whose  prejudices,  led  them  to  sup- 
port monotheism  in  the  whole  nation.  Ritualism  was  never 
carried  so  far,  unless  it  be  that  Egyptian  worship  surpassed 
it  in  solemn  and  awful  grandeur.  But  who  that  saw  the 
great  festivals,  the  grandeur  of  the  temple  worship,  the 
cloisters  and  porches,  —  a  single  one  of  which,  the  Royal 
Porch,  with  its  roofs  borne  up  by  an  hundred  and  sixty-two 
Corinthian  columns,  covered  an  area  larger  than  that  of  York 
Minster,  —  the  magnificent  gates  covered  with  bronze  and 
gold,  the  twenty  thousand  priests  serving  in  their  order  in 
the  Temple,  with  their  gorgeous  robes,  —  who  that  saw  all 
this,  humble  peasant  though  he  might  be  from  some  Galilean 
hill,  but  went  home  rejoicing  that  this  great  worship  of  Jeho- 
vah was  also  his,  and  that  he,  also,  was  a  child  of  Abraham, 
Father  of  the  Faithful  and  Friend  of  God. 

But  now,  in  the  time  of  Jesus,  the  track  had  turned  into  a 
rut,  and  order  had  stiffened  into  hard  routine.  Method  had 
lost  its  life,  and  the  beautiful  warm  human  body  had  become 
a  cold  corpse,  still  beautiful  perhaps,  but  dead. 

"  So  calmly  sweet,  so  softly  fair,  — 
We  start ;  for  soul  is  wanting  there  !  " 

And  so  Jesus  became  the  new  and  great  High  Priest,  and 
the  head  of  a  new  priesthood,  which  consisted,  not  of  those 
descended  from  Aaron,  but  of  those  who  have  fiiith  in  God. 
All  Christians  became  kings  and  priests  unto  God,  and  the 
magnificent  Order  of  the  Temple  and  the  long  descent  from 
Aaron  came  to  an  end. 
20 


306  MELCHTZEDEK   AND    HIS   MORAL.  , 

No  wonder  that  the  Hebrew  Christians  could  not  quite 
make  up  their  minds  to  this.  They  missed,  in  the  pure  sim- 
plicity of  their  new  worship,  the  grand  ceremonies  of  the  old 
ritual.  Christianity  seemed  bare  and  cold  to  them.  Just 
so,  to  Catholics,  Protestantism  seems  bare  and  cold ;  just 
so,  to  Orthodoxy,  Liberal  Christianity  seems  cold.  It  is 
always  sad  to  see  the  end  of  a  long  line,  whether  of  priests 
or  nobles.  Lord  Chief  Justice  Crewe,  in  the  time  of  Charles 
the  First,  in  pronouncing  judgment  in  the  claim  to  the  extinct 
title  of  the  great  house  of  De  Vere,  almost  turned  a  poet, 
and  said,  that  "  his  affection  so  stood  to  the  continuance  of 
that  noble  name,  that  he  would  take  hold  of  a  twig  or  twine 
thread  to  uphold  it ;  but  yet,"  adds  he,  "  there  must  be  a 
period  and  end  of  whatever  is  terrene,  —  an  end  of  names 
and  dignities,  and  why  not  of  De  Vere?  For  where  is 
Bohun?  Where  is  Mowbray?  Where  is  Mortimer?  Nay, 
what  is  more  and  most  of  all,  where  is  Plantagenet?  They 
are  all  entombed  in  the  urns  and  sepulchres  of  mortality." 

So  it  happened  that  the  Hebrew  Christians,  looking  back- 
ward, longed  for  the  fleshpots  of  their  old  ritual,  and  began 
to  backslide.  They  said,  "  We  want  a  priesthood.  How  can 
Christ  be  a  priest,  when  he  is  not  of  the  house  of  Aaron  or 
tribe  of  Levi,  but  of  the  tribe  of  Judah  ?  He  is  out  of  the 
true  line  of  succession.  He  is  out  of  the  true  order  of  the 
ministry.  He  is  not  a  priest  in  the  God-established  method. 
He  may  be  a  great  prophet,  but  he  is  no  true  priest ;  tliere- 
fore  he  is  not  authorized  to  sacrifice,  or  to  give  us  the  true 
worship.  For  religion  has  not  only  a  soul,  but  also  a  body  ; 
and  the  true  body  is  as  important  as  the  true  soul.  Pnly  tlie 
Jewisli  priest  is  in  the  line  of  the  true  succession.  So,  if  we 
wish  to  worship  so  as  to  please  God,  we  must  go  back  and 
be  Jews  again." 

Now  this  is  the  identical  argument  which  Catholics  use 
against  Protestants,  and  whicli  Episcopalians  use  against 
oilier  Protestant  denoiniiuitioiis.      They  say  that  the  body  of 


MELCHIZEDEK    AND    HIS   MORAL.  307 

religion  is  as  important  as  the  soul ;  our  Church  is  the  only- 
true  body,  and  so,  out  of  it,  there  are  no  authorized  means 
of  grace,  no  authentic  priesthood  or  ministry,  no  divinely 
established  worship.  And  by  these  arguments,  hundreds, 
every  year,  are  led  into  the  Catholic  Church  or  into  the 
Episcopalian  Church. 

But  what  was  the  answer  of  the  apostle  to  this  argument? 
He  went  straight  back  to  the  old  King-Pkiest  who  met  Abra- 
ham, and  to  whom  Abraham  paid  tithes,  —  the  man  we  call 
Melchizedek,  King  of  Righteousness  and  King  of  Peace. 
*'  Look  at  him  !  "  said  he.  "  From  whom  was  he  descend- 
ed? Where  is  his  genealogy?  How  did  he  get  into  any 
authorized  succession?  He  did  not  come  from  Levi  or 
Aaron,  but  the  father  of  Levi  and  Aaron  paid  him  tithes  ; 
he  had  no  father  nor  mother,  beginning  of  days  nor  end  of 
lifp,  no  genealogy,  no  regular  descent.  He  came  from  no 
one  knows  whence  ;  he  went  no  one  knows  where.  How, 
then,  was  he  a  true  priest?  Because  he  worshipped  the  true 
God.  He  was  made  a  priest,  not  after  the  law  of  a  carnal 
commandment,  but  after  the  power  of  an  endless  life.  And 
Jesus  is  a  priest  in  that  same  divine  order,  —  a  priest  forever 
after  the  order  of  Melchizedek." 

This  Melchizedek,  then,  is  another  kind  of  priest,  different 
from  the  tribe  of  Levi ;  not  a  priest  because  of  being  in  the 
formal  succession,  but  by  being  tlie  true  man  ;  not  by  being 
in  the  right  place,  but  by  having  the  right  thing  in  him.  His 
priesthood  was  not  a  matter  of  etiquette,  regulation,  consti- 
tution, or  code  ;  it  came  from  the  noble  religious  soul  in  him, 
which  saw  a  Supreme  God  amid  the  idolatries  which  sur- 
rounded him.  He  was  made  priest  by  the  power  of  an  end- 
less life.  Eternity  dwelt  in  his  soul.  He  stood  in  contact 
with  two  worlds  ;  he  saw  the  infinite  realities  of  past  and 
future  roll  together  in  the  great  present.  He  saw  substance 
below  the  form,  spirit  within  the  letter,  life  pervading  mat- 
ter, God  moving  in  the  world.     This  made  him  a  priest,  a 


308  MELCHIZEDEK   AND   HIS   MORAL. 

true  priest,  a  priest  forever  ;  for,  ten  centuries  after,  the  pro- 
phetic, poetic  spirit  of  David  saw  in  him  the  analogies 
of  the  future  Teacher  of  mankind  —  priest  of  the  wliole 
race  of  men.  As  this  King  of  Justice  aud  Peace  mediated 
between  many  tribes  and  made  them  as  one,  so  should  the 
future  priest  mediate  among  all  mankind.  As  he  was  a 
priest  because  he  stood  near  to  God,  not  because  of  any  out- 
ward descent,  family,  or  genealogy,  so  should  it  be  with  the 
coming  Child  of  God,  who  was  to  purify  the  hearts  of  many- 
languaged  men.  And  as  Melcliizedek  was  a  priest  forever^ 
because  his  spiritual  qualities  were  never  to  be  forgotten,  so 
the  same  qualities  in  Christ,  but  of  a  more  divine  order, 
should  uplift  the  souls  of  men  through  all  time. 

This  analogy,  seen  by  David,  was  caught  up  in  the  argu- 
ment of  the  writer  to  the  Hebrews.  This  is  his  answer  to 
their  otherwise  fatal  objection.  He  goes  back  of  the  objec- 
tion, moving  a  previous  question.  "  Yes,"  he  says,  "  I 
admit  freely  that  Jesus  was  no  priest  of  that  kind, — no 
priest  like  your  priests,  —  but  he  was  of  a  far  higher  and 
nobler  kind.  He  did  a  true  priest's  work  far  more  nobly 
and  truly  than  they  can  do  it." 

The  true  priest  is  not  the  man  who  wears  the  cassock,  or 
gown,  or  surplice  ;  not  the  one  who  has  Reverend  before  his 
name  in  the  city  directory  ;  not  the  professional  priest,  mem- 
ber of  a  craft,  known  by  his  looks,  tones,  manners,  educa- 
tion. This  is  the  priest  after  the  order  of  Aaron.  His 
priesthood  consists  in  regularity :  in  standing  in  the  regular 
place,  saying  the  regular  words,  wearing  the  regular  cos- 
tume, using  the  regular  tone,  having  the  regular  manner. 
His  priesthood  is  all  surface  priesthood.  He  is  known  by 
his  cloth,  as  it  is  said  ;  by  the  kind  of  coat  he  wears. 

But  the  real  priest  is  the  man  wb.o  has  the  power  of  an 
endless  life  in  his  soul,  by  which  he  can  bring  us  nearer  to 
God.  We  bless  him  who  can  make  us  see  God.  AVe  arc 
often  away  from  God  ;  we  have  lost  sight  of  him  ;  it  seems 


MELCHIZEDEK   AND    HIS   MORAL.  309 

as  if  he  had  forgotten  us.  Who  shall  show  us  the  way  back 
to  our  Father  ?  Whoever  does  this  for  us  is  our  real  priest 
after  the  power  of  a  spiritual  life. 

There  are  times  when  forms  and  rules  are  good,  and  the 
priest  after  the  order  of  Levi  is  needed.  I  do  not  mean  to 
say  that  order  in  the  ministry  is  not  often  expedient.  But  I 
wish  to  say  that  our  great  High  Priest  transcended  these 
limits,  and  took  his  position  on  a  far  deeper  and  more  uni- 
versal priesthood  than  that  of  form,  ritual,  or  succession.  It 
would  have  been  very  easy  for  God  to  have  caused  Jesus  to 
be  born  from  the  tribe  of  Levi ;  but  Divine  Providence  chose 
otherwise,  to  teach  us  that  the  true  priest  stands  on  a  much 
more  profound  basis  of  reality  than  any  church  can  give,  de- 
rives his  ordination  from  a  far  holier  source,  is  in  the  apos- 
tolic succession,  not  of  any  limited  church,  but  of  all  true 
teachers  of  the  race  since  the  world  began.  It  seems 
strange,  therefore,  that  in  any  church  men  should  prefer  the 
ordination  of  Aaron  and  Levi  to  that  of  Melchizedek  and 
Christ ;  prefer  legitimating  a  priest  by  studying  out  his 
genealogy,  and  proving  that  he  stands  in  the  right  order  of 
descent,  to  legitimating  him  by  finding  him  like  Melchizedek, 
"  without  father  or  mother,  without  beginning  of  days  or 
end  of  life  ;  made  like  to  the  Son  of  God,  not  after  the  law 
of  carnal  commandments,  but  after  the  power  of  an  endless 
life." 

Every  Christian,  therefore,  is  a  priest ;  every  one  who  has 
faith  in  God  as  his  Father  and  Friend  can  communicate  that 
faith  to  others.  The  priesthood  of  Jesus  is  not  in  any  regu- 
larity of  appointment,  not  in  his  having  the  right  title-deeds, 
signed  and  sealed  in  the  right  way.  But  he  is  the  great 
High  Priest  of  the  human  race  forever,  because  he  was  so 
full  of  the  sense  of  God's  presence  and  love  that  he  has 
spoken  to  the  heart  of  the  human  race,  and  lifted  it  all 
nearer  to  the  Father.  So  he  may  say  in  truth,  "  No  man 
Cometh  to  the  Father  but  by  me."     Who  ever  came  in  any 


310  MELCHIZEDEK   AND   HIS   MORAL. 

Other  way?  Before  Christ,  men  went  to  Jehovah,  the  God 
of  Justice  ;  to  Jupiter,  the  God  of  Power  ;  to  Brahm,  the 
Abstract  Spirit;  Boodh,  the  representative  of  tlie  human 
soul  struggling  against  the  laws  of  Nature.  They  went  to 
Science,  and  found,  not  God  the  Father,  but  only  God  as 
Infinite  Law;  they  went  to^Pliilosophy,  and  found  God  as 
Reason,  and  Cause  of  all  things  ;  but  never,  never  did  tliey 
find  their  Father  except  through  Jesus,  and  so  he  became,  by 
that  revelation,  the  High  Priest  of  the  human  race  forever. 

And  so  every  humble  soul  that  sees  the  Father,  and  lives 
in  that  sweet  vision,  becomes  a  priest  to  otlier  souls.  A 
sacramental  power  goes  from  the  voice,  the  touch,  the  look, 
of  every  one  who  is  himself  loving  God.  The  Catholic 
defines  sacrament  as  conveying  grace,  no  less  than  as  a  sym- 
bol of  it.  To  most  Protestants  sacraments  are  merely 
symbols  and  suggestions.  But  there  are  sacraments  which 
convey  grace.  I  call  it  a  sacramental  occasion  when  any 
soul,  full  of  the  love  of  God  and  man,  strives  to  help  another 
soul;  to  purify,  to  elevate,  to  bring  it  to  God.  Something 
beyond  the  meaning  of  the  words  passes  from  heart  to  heart  ; 
something  more  convincing  than  argument,  more  weighty 
than  reason,  makes  of  that  hour  a  sacramental  hour,  and  of 
that  olfice  a  priesthood.  The  life  of  God  flows  to  us  through 
these  channels.  Deeper  than  all  depth,  higher  than  all 
height,  the  Spirit  comes  through  these  human  hearts  to  ours. 

How  olten  has  the  patient,  waiting  love  of  a  wife  made 
her  thought  and  care  a  priesthood  to  her  husband,  saving 
him  from  the  perils  of  his  stormy  life,  and  bringing  him  at 
last  to  know  and  love  God,  and  to  taste  the  sweetness  of 
heaven  below  !  When  the  children  see  their  parents  living 
lives  of  purity,  devotion,  fidelity,  truth,  justice,  honor,  ten- 
derness, what  priesthood  can  so  lift  their  young  hearts  to 
God  as  this?  Therefore,  the  father  was  of  old  the  priest; 
and  the  king,  as  head  of  the  tribe,  was  also  its  priest,  — 
traces  of  which  customs  lin^jjer  throu";h  all  historic  records. 


MELCHIZEDEK   AND    HIS    MORAL.  311 

And  if  parents  may  be  priests  to  their  children,  so  also 
may  children  be  priests  to  their  parents,  opening  to  them  the 
gateway  of  heaven.  These  little,  tender,  innocent,  depend- 
ent, helpless,  trusting  hearts  draw  out  all  that  is  best  in 
ours,  and  make  us  more  simple,  true,  and  pure.  Little 
children  in  a  family  are  God's  priesthood  there,  after  the 
order  of  Melchizedek,  to  sweeten  all  life  with  something 
from  on  high.  "  Trailing  clouds  of  glory  do  they  come, 
from  heaven,  which  is  their  home."  And  when  they  go 
away,  when  their  tender  forms  are  laid  below  the  green 
grass,  we  go  and  sit  by  their  graves  under  the  clear  October 
sky,  and  hear  the  dry  leaves  dropping  on  the  dry  sod  ;  and 
then  they  lift  our  hearts  above  our  common  hardness  and 
coldness,  and  make  us  feel  that  there  is  something  in  us  bet- 
ter than  the  love  of  money,  better  than  the  love  of  fame  or 
power ;  that  we,  too,  belong  to  their  heaven,  and  shall  see 
our  angels  again  once  more  in  the  presence  of  God  and  the 
great  High  Priest  of  Love,  Jesus  Christ. 

The  poet  used  also  to  be  called  a  priest ;  and  the  true 
poet  is  a  priest  after  the  order  of  Melchizedek  ;  for  he  shows 
us  God  in  the  world.  He  teaches  us  to  see  a  divine  beauty 
in  all  of  Nature.  Nature  is  not  merely  a  house  and  farm 
for  us  to  live  in,  not  merely  a  picture-gallery  for  us  to  amuse 
ourselves  in,  not  merely  a  museum  of  curiosities  for  us  to 
study  ;  but  the  poet  shows  us,  if  he  be  a  true,  divinely-in- 
spired poet,  he  shows  us  our  Father  in  it  all.  Nature  is  full 
of  the  peace  of  God  then.  In  the  dawn  of  morning,  he 
shows  us  the  smile  of  God  welcoming  his  children  to  their 
daily  work  ;  in  the  gorgeous  sunset,  God  drawing  the  cur- 
tains of  the  evening  ;  in  the  solemn  fires  of  night,  circling 
along  their  interminable  paths  forever,  the  majestic  sta- 
bility of  God's  great  order ;  in  all  the  infinite  varieties 
of  plant,  flower,  tree,  insect,  bird,  he  shows  the  Divine 
Providence  caring  for  all  his  creatures,  painting  the  lily 
of  the  field,  and   marking  the  fall  of  the   sparrow.     And 


312  MELCHIZEDEK   AND   HIS   MORAL. 

SO  the  poet,  or  the  lover  of  Nature,  becomes  also  a  priest,  and 
his  every  verse  is  a  hymn  and  sacramental  psalm.  Such  a 
priest  was  Wordsworth,  sanctifying  all  the  thoughts  of  men 
where  the  English  language  is  spoken ;  such  a  priest  is 
"Whittier,  filling  all  of  Nature  and  life  with  a  sense  of  God's 
presence.  These  are  the  priests  forever,  after  the  order  of 
Melchizedek. 

So  we  may  find  our  true  priests  everywhere,  and  we  may 
ourselves  all  be  true  priests  of  God.  If  we  have  in  us  the 
spirit  of  Christ ;  if  we  see  God  as  our  Father,  and  as  the 
Father  of  all  men  ;  if,  in  this  spirit,  we  learn  to  respect  and 
honor  all  God's  children ;  if  we  carry  in  our  hearts, 
wherever  we  go,  an  unfailing  trust  that  God  is  all  around 
us  in  Nature,  that  God  is  always  going  before  us  by  his 
Providence,  and  that  he  is  always  ready  to  come  into  our 
hearts  by  the  holy  influence  of  his  Spirit ;  we  shall  find  a 
priesthood  in  all  Nature,  in  all  events,  in  all  life,  and  we 
shall  carry  that  holy  and  sanctifying  influence  to  others.  In 
religion,  before  all  other  things,  come  spirit  and  truth.  The 
true  creed  is  not  that  which  our  fathers  signed,  but  that  to 
which  our  own  minds  assent.  The  only  liturgy  worth  keep- 
ing is  that  by  which  we  can  worship  God  in  spirit  and  in 
truth.  The  only  priest  who  can  help  us  to  approach  God  is 
the  man  or  woman  or  child  who  has  a  living  faith  in  God, 
and  speaks  out  of  that.  We  want  and  need  order,  but  not 
so  much  the  order  of  Aaron  as  that  of  Melchizedek ;  the 
order  which  establishes  justice  and  maintains  peace ;  the 
order  of  childlike  hearts,  of  those  who  become  as  little 
children  to  see  God ;  the  order  of  sincere  infancy,  of  honest 
goodness,  of  the  love  which  is  in  daily  life,  of  the  generous 
heart  which  forgets  its  own  good  in  the  good  of  others,  of 
the  truth  which  is  loyal  to  the  end  amid  all  mistakes,  all 
censure,  all  failure.  This  is  the  divine  order  which  the 
Lord  Jesus  has  brought  to  us  from  his  Father  and  ours. 
This  is  the  New  Jerusalem,  wliich  comes  down  out  of  heaven 


MELCHIZEDEK   AND    HIS  MORAL.  313 

to  man ;  this  is  the  only  priesthood  which  lasts  forever. 
The  priesthood  of  Aaron  passes  away ;  the  priesthood  of  the 
soul  endures  always. 

"  The  Old  Jerusalem  was  built  apart, 

And  in  it  men  sought  God  in  doubt  and  fear; 
The  New  Jerusalem  is  in  our  heart, 
And  Cometh  down  from  God  to  make  heaven  here." 


XXVII. 

NEGATIVE  AND  POSITIVE  RELIGION. 
Matt.  xii.  44 :  "  When  he  cometh,  he  findetu  it  ejipty." 

WHY  did  the  evil  spirit,  which  had  been  cast  out  of 
the  man,  return  again  so  easily?  Because  the  house 
he  occupied  had  been  left  empty  after  his  departure.  It  was 
swept  and  garnished  ;  that  is,  made  clean  and  adorned  ;  but 
it  was  empty.  That  made  it  easy  for  him  to  go  in  again. 
Had  it  been  occupied,  he  could  not  have  returned. 

The  doctrine  of  the  parable,  therefore,  is,  that  no  merely 
negative  reform,  negative  gooduess,  negative  religion,  is 
enough  ;  these  will  never  secure  a  soul  against  relapse.  We 
want  something  positive  ;  positive  reforms,  goodness,  reli- 
gion. Safety  or  salvation  is  to  be  found  only  in  this  positive 
religion. 

This  doctrine  accords  with  the  experience  of  all  men,  and 
with  the  observation  of  all  ages.  Dr.  Watts  expresses  it, 
when  he  says  that  "  Satan  finds  some  mischief  still,  for  idle 
hands  to  do."  John  Newton  expressed  it,  by  saying,  "  If  I 
wish  to  keep  my  basket  from  being  filled  with  chaff,  the  best 
way  is  to  fill  it  brim  full  with  wheat." 

The  human  soul,  like  Nature,  abhors  a  vacuum.  It  must 
be  filled  and  occupied  with  something.  If  it  cannot  have 
good  thoughts  and  great  truths  to  contemplate,  it  will  be 
occupied  with  trivial  ones  ;  if  it  has  no  noble  love,  it  will  be 
diawn  aside  by  some  meaner  passion  ;  if  it  has  no  important, 

(314) 


NEGATIVE   AND   POSITIVE   RELIGION.  315 

generous,  useful  work  to  do,  it  will  devote  itself  to  some  in- 
siguificant  pursuit.  The  soul  must  be  occupied  by  some 
good  spirit,  or  a  bad  one  mil  occupy  it. 

That  which  sweeps  the  house  is  Morality ;  that  which  gar- 
nishes or  adorns  the  house  is  Culture  ;  but  neither  of  them 
occupy  it.  A  soul  may  be  morally  innocent  and  clean ;  it 
may  be  highly  cultivated  and  a^ccomplished ;  and  yet  may  be 
devoted  to  nothing  ;  —  without  any  serious  purpose,  with  no 
object  in  life,  not  living  for  anything. 

Now,  the  only  good  spirit  which  can  occupy  the  soul  fully,  is 
Religion.  And  by  religion,  I  mean,  in  the  largest  sense,  devo- 
tion to  a  good  outside  of  ourselves  ;  unselfish  consecration  of 
mind,  heart,  and  hand  to  a  great  and  good  cause  ;  generous, 
self-forgetful  service  of  Justice,  Freedom,  Humanity,  and 
God. 

Neither  Morality  nor  Culture  can  occupy  the  soul  of  man. 
Only  a  religion  can  occupy  it,  which  consists  not  of  dogmas, 
not  of  ceremonies,  not  of  transient  emotions,  but  of  Love. 
The  religion  of  love  alone  is  positive,  solid,  substantial ;  that 
alone  can  fill  the  soul  full. 

But  the  soul  is  like  a  house,  composed  of  many  different 
apartments.  There  is  the  chamber  of  the  Understanding,  or 
Knowing  faculty  ;  that  of  the  Conscience,  or  Moral  faculty  ; 
that  of  the  Imagination,  or  Picturesque  faculty ;  that  of 
Amusement ;  that  of  Work  ;  and  that  of  Worship.  None 
of  these  apartments  must  be  left  empty,  and  nothing  can 
occupy  them  but  the  angel  of  love. 

There  is  a  good  angel,  whom  God  intends  to  inhabit  each 
of  them  ;  if  he  does  not  come,  then  no  matter  how  clean 
the  apartment  is,  or  how  finely  furnished,  a  bad  angel  will 
certainly  come  in  his  place.  This  doctrine  I  will  now  en- 
deavor to  explain  and  illustrate. 

I.      Consider  what  ivill  occupy  the  Understanding. 

The  Understanding  is  one  of  the  apartments  in  that  house 
Vv'hich  we  call  the  Human  Soul.     It  needs  a  positive  educa- 


31G  NEGATIVE   AND   POSITIVE   RELIGION. 

tion  ;  needs  positive  knowledge.  That  is  the  good  angel 
which  belongs  there. 

People  sometimes  object  to  teaching  children  religious 
principles  and  ideas,  on  the  ground  that  they  do  not  wish  to 
prejudice  the  minds  of  the  children  in  favor  of  one  system 
of  doctrine,  but  to  leave  their  minds  free,  so  that  they  may 
be  unbiased,  and  choose  for  themselves  by  and  by. 

It  is  reported  of  Coleridge,  that  he  was  one  day  talking 
with  a  man,  who  said  that  he  did  not  intend  to  teach  any  posi- 
tive religious  truth  to  his  children,  as  he  would  not  prejudice 
them  in  favor  of  any  particular  opinions,  but  let  them  choose 
for  themselves  when  they  grew  up.  "Come  and  see  my 
garden,"  said  Coleridge.  So  he  took  him  to  a  piece  of 
ground,  all  overgrown  with  weeds.  "How  is  this?  Do 
you  call  this  your  garden?"  said  the  other.  "  Yes,"  re- 
plied Coleridge,  "  that  is  my  garden.  I  did  not  plant  any- 
thing in  it,  for  I  would  not  prejudice  it  in  favor  of  straw- 
berries and  roses,  and  somehow  it  has  taken  a  fancy  for 
nettles  and  pigweed." 

The  human  intellect  is  such  a  garden.  You  cannot  keep 
it  empty.  Give  it  good  thoughts,  or  it  will  have  bad  ones  ; 
wise  thoughts,  or  it  will  have  foolish  ones. 

But  a  great  deal  of  teaching  has  a  negative  character  to 
it,  or  at  least,  a  superficial  character.  It  is  the  garnishing 
of  the  apartment ;  its  ornament,  its  plaster,  and  paint.  It 
does  not  occupy  the  understanding.  Only  live  knowledge 
occupies  the  intellect.  It  must  be  knowledge  which  interests 
the  intellect,  else  it  wastes  away,  is  forgotten,  and  lost. 
The  understanding  is  empty  which  is  only  filled  with  the 
rubbish  of  dead  knowledge.  But  anything  which  we  love, 
which  we  pursue  with  vital  interest,  any  study  which  carries 
us  on  of  itself,  becomes   the  angel  of  knowledge  in  a  soul. 

Hence  we  say  that  the  first  condition  of  teaching  is  enthu- 
siasm. The  teacher  must  be  in  love  with  what  he  teaches 
himself,  so  as  to  make  his  pupils  love  it.     Until  they  love 


NEGATIVE    AND    POSITIVE    RELIGION.  317 

knowledge  for  its  own  sake,  the  understanding  is  merely  an 
empty  house.  Give  me  a  teacher  who  is  an  enthusiast,  and 
it  does  not  make  so  much  difference  what  he  teaches.  All 
knowledge  is  from  God  ;  and  I  had  rather  have  a  teacher 
who  teaches  me  about  clams  and  snakes,  lichens  and  fungi, 
if  he  is  in  love  with  that  knowledge,  than  one  who  desecrates 
the  highest  truth  by  teaching  it  as  though  it  were  uninterest- 
ing and  empty. 

I  will  not  say  that  no  one  ought  to  teach  that  which  he 
does  not  love.  But  I  will  say  that  no  instruction  is  good 
taught  otherwise.  Anything  may  be  easily  taught  to  chil- 
dren, if  the  teacher  is  only  interested  in  teaching  it.  If  the 
children  see  that  their  teacher  really  cares  for  his  subject^ 
and  believes  it  important,  desirable,  charming,  they  will  find 
it  desirable  and  charming  too.  Positive  and  solid  knowl- 
edge cannot  be  communicated  in  any  other  way  than  that  of 
love.  The  understanding  becomes  otherwise  a  tomb,  full 
of  dead  men's  bones  ;  not  a  house,  with  live  people  in  it. 

Let  the  teacher,  therefore,  love  to  teach,  and  the  scholar 
will  love  to  learn.  Let  him  love  what  he  teaches,  and  the 
scholar  will  love  it  too.  Love,  and  only  love,  will  occupy 
this  apartment  of  the  House  of  the  Soul. 

II.      Consider  ivhat  will  occupy  the  Conscience. 

The  Conscience  is  another  apartment  in  the  soul.  This 
also  needs  something  positive,  —  a  positive  education,  posi- 
tive knowledge,  —  else  it  remains  empty.  Clean,  indeed,  it 
may  be,  and  garnished,  but  it  is  not  occupied  by  any  living 
soul  or  spirit. 

A  great  deal  of  morality  is  only  negative.  It  forbids,  but 
does  not  command.  It  repels,  but  does  not  attract.  It 
drives  away  from  evil ;  it  does  not  allure  to  good.  Parents 
often  say  to  their  children,  "  You  must  not  do  this  ;  you 
must  not  do  that."  Tiiis  is  all  that  the  poor  things  hear. 
But  other  children  are  kindly  drawn  towards  good  and 
great  thoughts  by  parents,  brothers,  and   friends ;  they  are 


318  NEGATIVE   AND   POSITIVE   RELIGION. 

interested  in  generous  objects,  in  a  good  cause,  by  the  cou- 
tugious  influence  of  the  enthusiasm  of  those  they  love. 
They  see  tliem  lead  devout  and  benevolent  lives ;  they  hear 
them  speak  inspiring  words  of  truth  and  deep  conviction  ; 
they  observe  the  depth  and  sweep  of  their  convictions  and 
aims.  This  is  the  only  way  to  teach  the  conscience,  and 
give  it  positive  education.  It  is  by  making  goodness  lovely 
to  it.  Then  the  child  grows  up  in  a  glad  atmosphere  of  joy- 
ful virtue,  where  gonerosity,  kindness,  honor,  and  truth  are 
at  home  ;  where  the  parents  are  evidently  guided  by  noble 
purposes  ;  where  they  arc  seeking,  not  small  advantages  for 
themselves,  but  to  do  good  to  others.  The  children  in  these 
homes  do  not  hear  low  plans  and  mean  purposes  debated, 
but  see  that  the  lives  of  their  parents,  and  of  all  the  friends 
who  come  and  go,  are  actuated  by  high  impulses  and  far- 
reaching  aims.  When  they  thus  live  in  an  atmosphere  of 
aspiration,  generosity,  and  good  will,  it  is  hard  for  the  chil- 
dren not  to  turn  out  noble  too.  It  is  the  unconscious  teach- 
ing of  the  dinner-table  and  the  fireside  talk  which  educates 
them. 

No  one's  conscience  is  educated  by  negations  and  prohibi- 
tions. One  can  thus  be  barely  prevented  from  doing  wrong  ; 
he  cannot  be  made  to  do  right.  I  have  seen  a  great  many 
men  with  this  kind  of  negative  conscientiousness,  very  con- 
scientious not  to  do  anything ;  so  much  afraid  of  doing 
wrong,  that  they  never  would  do  anything  right.  They 
seemed  to  suppose  that  the  only  danger  was  in  doing,  and 
not  that  they  might  equally  sin  in  omitting  to  do.  Their 
sense  of  responsibility  was  one-sided ;  a  battery  with  all  its 
cannon  directed  one  way  :  not  seeing  that  the  devil  and  his 
angels  could  storm  the  fort  just  as  easily  in  the  rear  as  in 
front ;  just  as  well  through  the  sins  of  omission  as  those  of 
commission. 

Hence  I  sometimes  mistrust  our  reforms,  they  arc  so  nega- 
tive.    They  aim  at  putting  out  or  putting  down  some  evil. 


NEGATIVE   AND   POSITIVE   RELIGION.  319 

They  criticise,  rebuke,  condemn,  and  destroy.  They  are  like 
the  Jewish  law,  which  could  make  nothing  perfect.  They 
are  like  John  the  Baptist,  —  able  precursors,  but  only  precur- 
sors of  Jesus  Christ.  They  prepare  the  way  of  a  higher 
goodness,  nothing  more.  The  temperance  reform,  the  anti- 
slavery  reform,  the  anti-war  movement,  the  non-resistance 
movement,  all  aim  at  dispossessing  the  body  politic  of  some 
social  evil.  They  wish  to  put  the  evil  spirit  out  of  the  man, 
—  the  evil  spirit  of  slavery,  intemperance,  and  war.  So  far, 
so  well ;  but  when  the  house  is  swept  and  garnished,  if  it  be 
left  empty,  the  same  spirit  which  produced  slavery,  intem- 
perance, and  war,  will  return  again,  bringing  new  horrors  in 
its  train,  worse  than  before,  because  there  will  be  less 
courage  to  contend  with  against  them  than  formerly. 

But  we  will  not  leave  the  house  empty  —  why  should  we? 
It  is  not  enough  to  free  the  slave  —  you  must  make  a  man 
of  him,  by  aiding  him  in  his  efforts  at  self-improvement,  by 
encouraging  his  just  ambition.  We  have  reached  a  higher 
definition  of  freedom  than  that  of  the  past  age.  Then  free- 
dom merely  meant  the  taking  off  of  all  unjust  restraint,  and 
letting  each  man  do  what  he  could  for  himself.  Now  we 
understand  by  it  the  exercise  of  all  one's  faculties  in  their 
proper  harmony,  and  this  requires  that  each  should  aid  the 
other  to  unfold  his  whole  nature.  Though  the  chains  have 
been  snapped  from  the  slaves  throughout  all  the  land,  the 
work  of  emancipation  is  only  half  done.  We  still  have  to 
emancipate  the  colored  race  from  the  effects  of  their  past 
servitude ;  from  the  invisible  chains  of  self-distrust,  timidity, 
and  indolence.  This  needs  the  positive  and  creative  power  of 
love  and  truth.  They  must  be  helped,  not  merely  nega- 
tively, by  taking  away  their  evils,  but  positively,  by  impart- 
ing to  them  good. 

You  cannot  destroy  slavery  simply  by  an  act  of  emanci- 
pation. You  have  to  do  something  more.  That  is  only  a 
negative  reform.     You  must  immediately  take  hold  of  the' 


320  NEGATIVE   AND   POSITIVE   RELIGION. 

colored  freedmen,  and  teach  them  how  to  work  for  them- 
selves ;  give  them  some  friendly  aid  and  counsel ;  educate 
them,  mentally  and  morally.  Therefore  I  rejoice  in  all 
attempts  to  educate  the  freedmen.  Give  them  first  the  price- 
less boon  of  freedom,  but  do  not  leave  them  so.  Help  them 
to  use  it.  Show  them  how  to  be  really  free.  Develop  the 
tastes  and  habits  of  self-relying,  self-respecting  industry. 
To  break  his  fetters  does  not  make  a  man  free.  To  teach 
him  self-control  and  self-direction  does. 

So,  too,  in  putting  an  end  to  war,  we  can  only  succeed 
when  we  have  provided  a  proper  sphere  for  the  warlike 
element  of  human  nature.  Man  must  fight,  and  he  ought  to 
fight ;  but  he  ought  not  to  fight  his  brother  man.  But  he 
will  continue  to  fight  with  man,  and  bloody  battles  will  be 
renewed  from  time  to  time,  until  he  understands  that  heroism 
and  chivalry  can  be  eqally  shown  in  attacking  and  overcoming 
abuses,  in  saving  men  from  the  evils  Avhich  surround  them, 
in  contending  with  the  lifeless  forces  of  Nature,  and  the 
tyrannical  sway  of  ancient  frauds  and  wrongs.  Was  not 
Paul  as  great  a  hero  as  Napoleon  ?  Was  not  Grace  Darling, 
going  out  in  her  skiff  amid  the  roaring  storm,  and  guiding 
it  amid  the  raging  sheets  of  foam  which  men  dared  not  face, 
and  bringing  safe  to  land  the  shipwrecked  mariners,  —  as 
much  of  a  hero  as  any  soldier  who  gave  his  life  for  his 
country  on  the  bloody  field  of  battle  ?  You  cannot  keep  men 
from  fighting  in  the  dreadful  battle-field  till  you  teach  them 
to  fight  in  the  spirit  of  Grace  Darling,  or  in  that  of  the 
humble  minister  of  Christ,  who  goes  into  the  haunts  of  pes- 
tilence, and  kneels  by  the  bed  of  contagion  in  the  service 
of  his  Master. 

So,  also,  it  is  with  other  merely  negative  reforms.  The 
Temperance  Reform,  if  it  merely  makes  men  leave  off 
drinking,  is  not  enough.  You  must  give  them  better 
tastes,  or  they  will  go  back  to  drinking  again.  Men 
must  have   some  excitement ;  something  to  do,  which  they 


NEGATIVE   AND   POSITIVE   RELIGION.  321 

enjoy  doing.  A  man  who  drinks,  has  a  good  time  while  he 
is  drinking.  It  is  a  very  low  sort  of  a  good  time  —  very 
poor  excitement.  But  still  it  is  something.  It  gives  a  little 
zest  to  life.  It  is  very  ruinous  to  body  and  soul.  True,  but 
he  will  do  that,  if  he  has  not  some  better  excitement  given 
to  him.  He  cannot  be  unclothed,  but  must  be  clothed  upon. 
Until  society  is  ready  to  furnish  to  poor  working  people  in- 
nocent and  healthy  amusement  and  excitement,  they  will 
have  sinful  and  morbid  excitement. 

To  cure  sin  is  not  as  easy,  therefore,  as  many  suppose. 
Restraint  will  not  do  it ;  punishment  will  not  do  it ;  fear 
w^ill  not  do  it.  These  are  only  John  the  Baptists  going  before 
the  Lord.  Love  must  do  it ;  Christian  love,  which  takes 
men  by  the  hand  and  helps  them.  Till  the  churches  and 
society  are  ready  to  do  this,  there  can  be  no  reformation  for 
society. 

III.  Consider,  again,  ivhat  will  occupy  that  apartment  of 
the  Soul  which  ive  call  the  Heart. 

Out  of  the  Heart  are  the  issues  of  life.  As  a  man  thinks 
in  his  heart,  so  is  he.  What  shall  fill  the  heart  Avith  pure 
thoughts,  noble  desires,  generous  aspirations?  What  shall 
purify  it  from  evil  wishes  and  low  imaginations  ? 

The  only  way  to  get  rid  of  bad  thoughts,  is  to  have  good 
ones ;  the  only  way  to  control  bad  feelings,  is  to  cherish 
pure  and  generous  ones.  Truth  only  can  drive  out  error ; 
you  must  love  your  enemy  if  you  would  not  hate  him. 

Do  you  find  that  evil  thoughts  and  imaginations,  like  foul 
demons,  enter  your  mind?  and  do  you  wish  to  drive  them 
out?  Have  you  formed  bad  habits  of  thought,  of  speech,  of 
desire,  and  wdsh  to  break  them  off.  Give  your  mind  to 
higher  and  purer  subjects  of  contemplation  ;  throw  yourself, 
heart  and  soul,  into  some  generous  cause,  and  work  for  it. 
Go  out  of  yourself,  and  take  an  interest  in  your  neighbor,  — 
in  his  troubles,  necessities  and  sins.  You  will  often  best 
save  your  own  soul  from  sin  by  not  thinking  of  it  at  all,  but 
21 


322  NEGATIVE   AND   POSITIVE   RELIGION. 

by  giving  your  thoughts  to  some  generous  philanthrophy,  to 
some  work  of  righteousness.  When  your  heart  is  full  of 
dark  and  troubled  thoughts,  go  and  find  a  sick  child,  and 
soothe  and  entertain  it,  and  you  will  come  home  with  your 
own  mind  also  refreshed  and  strengthened.  I  see  men  and 
women  in  the  possession  of  all  the  outward  comforts  of  life, 
miserable,  because  they  have  not  learned  this  secret.  They 
drive  out  their  gloomy  thoughts,  and  endeavor  laborious- 
ly to  purify  their  mind,  and  to  have  it  swept  and  gar- 
nished, but  they  leave  it  empty.  Once,  in  the  town  where 
I  lived,  a  young  man  destroyed  himself.  In  the  morn- 
ing of  youth,  having  boundless  wealth  at  his  command, 
he  was  already  weary  of  his  life,  and  threw  it  away.  His 
health,  indeed,  was  poor,  but  how  many  a  sick  man  and 
woman  lives  on  year  after  year,  in  patience  and  serenity, 
because  inwardly  animated  by^the  angel  spirits  of  love  and 
faith.  This  young  man,  of  whom  I  speak,  was  free  from 
vice  ;  but  how  happy  might  he  have  been  if  he  had  known 
how  to  use  his  great  opportunities  for  the  improvement  of 
society,  for  the  cause  of  education,  of  peace,  of  moral  re- 
form, of  religion  and  virtue.  How  much  happiness  would 
have  returned  to  him  every  day  from  such  an  exercise  of 
his  powers  !  How  impossible  it  would  have  been  for  him  to 
have  grown  weary  of  life  ! 

But  let  us  not  cast  censure  on  the  dead,  but  rather  let 
us,  the  living,  take  warning.  Should  we,  in  his  situa- 
tion, have  done  better  than  he?  I  do  not  know  that  we 
should.  If  we  do  not  now  use  our  present  opportuni- 
ties to  the  full,  should  we  have  used  his?  "We  have  no 
right  to  think  so.  Such  events  should  teach  us  how  desolate 
and  miserable  a  heart  may  become  which  is  simply  empty  ; 
wliich  merely  does  not  know  how  to  come  up  to  the  duties 
and  opportunittcs  of  its  position  ;  whose  faults  are  only  nega- 
tive, not  positive. 

There  is  but  one  thing  which  can  fill  the  soul  full,  so  as  to 


NEGATIVE   AND   POSITIVE  RELIGION.  323 

drive  out  all  evil  thoughts  and  passions,  and  to  keep  them 
from  returning  with  others  worse  than  themselves.  It  is 
love  —  love  to  God  ;  looking  up  to  him  in  daily  submission, 
penitence,  and  prayer  —  love  to  man  ;  animating  to  generous 
labors,  and  constant  sacrifices,  to  thoughtfulness  and  interest 
for  all  around  us.  When  a  heart  is  thus  full  of  love,  it  is 
safe.  No  evil  thought  can  enter  it,  no  foul  spirits  of  malice, 
lust,  and  covetousness ;  no  gloomy  feelings  of  doubt,  de- 
spair, and  life-weariness  can  conquer  its  habitual  courage 
and  peacefulness.  Love  is  what  we  need  ;  which  suffers  long 
and  is  kind  ;  love,  which  is  not  provoked,  and  thinks  no  evil ; 
love,  which  bears  all  things,  believes  all  things,  hopes  all 
things,  and  endures  all  things.  This  never  fails.  Knowl- 
edge cannot  always  support  us  ;  there  are  hours  in  which  the 
richest  and  keenest  intellect  is  clouded,  and  the  throne  of 
thought  is  shaken.  But  when  the  whole  head  is  sick,  and 
the  whole  heart  faint,  love,  faith,  and  hope  continue  to  pos- 
sess the  soul,  and  give  it  light  in  its  darkness,  and  serenity 
amid  the  stormy  hours  of  trial.  Persecuted,  we  are  not 
forsaken  ;  cast  down,  we  are  not  destroyed. 

IV.  Consider  what  will  occupy  the  Imagination^  or  Pic- 
ture-Gallery of  the  Soul. 

This,  also,  is  a  chamber  which  must  not  be  left  empty. 
It  is  left  empty  unless  the  soul  is  taught  to  love  beautiful 
things.  Hence  the  value  of  aesthetic  studies  ;  hence  the  im- 
portance of  teaching  it  to  love  beauty  in  nature,  art,  poetry, 
music,  and  sculpture. 

Those  who  have  a  taste  for  this  kind  of  beauty  will  usually 
have  pure  minds.  Their  imaginations  will  be  healthily  filled 
with  good  images,  and  not  unhealthily  filled  with  bad  ones. 
The  young  man  who  enjoys  the  sight  of  mountains,  oceans, 
forests ;  who  loves  to  draw,  to  paint,  to  sketch,  to  collect 
flowers,  to  arrange  gardens,  to  write  poetry  and  read  it,  to 
talk  with  artists,  is  not  likely  to  have  his  imagination  de- 
based by  low  images  and  coarse  forms  of  vice. 


324  xNKGATIVE    AND   POSITIVE   RELIGION. 

The  same  law  applies  to  amusements.  The  love  of  recrea- 
tion is  natural  to  man.  It  is  to  be  supposed,  therefore,  that 
it  was  put  in  liim  for  some  good  purpose  by  the  Creator.  It 
ought  to  be  a  house  properly  occupied.  Good  recreations 
and  amusements  should  always  be  provided ;  where  old 
and  young  can  go  together ;  husbands  and  wives  and  chil- 
dren ;  parents,  grandparents,  and  grandchildren.  There  is  a 
play-room  in  the  soul,  and  it  should  be  provided  for.  Tiie 
Puritans  made  a  great  mistake  here.  Calvinism  thinks 
nature  all  wrong,  hence  it  banished  amusements.  The 
more  natural  it  was  for  people  to  desire  amusements,  the 
less  Calvinism  approves  of  them. 

But,  fortunately,  Calvinism,  pure  and  simple,  hardly  exists 
now  in  any  church.  In  its  unmixed  form,  it  tended  to  make 
life  barren,  and  the  earth  empty  of  interest.  Wherever  it 
has  prevailed,  by  proscribing  innocent  amusements,  it  has 
left  the  door  open  for  worse  ones.  Travellers  in  Moham- 
medan countries,  like  Palgrave  and  Lane,  describe  the  same 
noxious  results  as  proceeding  from  the  same  cause  in  those 
lands.  In  Arabia,  in  the  Wahhabee  kingdom,  where  all 
amusements  are  severely  condemned,  the  coarsest  vices  take 
their  place. 

But  now  we  begin  to  understand  that  recreation  and 
amusement  are  wants  of  human  nature.  Hurtful  amuse- 
ments can  only  be  expelled  by  substituting  healthy  ones.  If 
people  read  bad  novels,  they  cannot  be  cured  of  this  by 
sweeping  denunciation  of  novel-reading,  but  by  providing 
good  novels.  If  the  theatre  does  harm,  we  can  only  sup- 
plant it  by  replacing  it  with  a  higher  style  of  dramatic 
entertainment.  The  coarse  and  vulgar  plays,  to  which  our 
ancestors  listened,  have  given  way  to  a  purer  and  nobler 
order.  "  The  soul,"  say  the  Buddhists,  "  is  like  a  leech,  — 
it  will  not  let  go  its  hold  by  its  tail,  until  it  has  taken  hold 
elsewhere  by  its  head." 


NEGATIVE   AND   POSITIVE   RELIGION  825 

V.      Consider,  also,  the  Work-Shop  of  the  Soul. 

Every  human  being  needs  work  ;  and  work  into  which 
he  can  put  his  heart.  To  love  one's  work  is  the  great  need 
of  man.  Every  one  wants  something  to  do.  The  first  pa- 
llietic  cry  of  the  child,  as  soon  as  he  has  learned  to  speak, 
is,  "  What  shall  I  do  ?  "  The  first  duty  of  parents  is  to  pro- 
vide children  with  something  to  do ;  some  work.  It  is 
easy  enough  to  keep  children  out  of  mischief — only  give 
them  something  to  do.  Provide  suitable  work  for  them,  — 
something  to  cut,  to  draw,  to  build,  to  arrange,  to  disar- 
range, to  pull  down,  to  set  up,  —  then  the  child  is  happy 
and  good  all  day  long. 

The  soul  which  has  occupation  is  not  empty.  No  devil 
can  get  into  it.  But  I  do  not  call  it  true  occupation  to  work 
with  the  hand,  while  the  mind  and  heart  are  somewhere  else. 
We  must  put  our  whole  soul  into  our  work,  or  we  cannot  do 
it  as  occupation.  Love  must  go  into  it,  or  the  soul  remains 
empty.  Drudgery  is  not  work ;  labor  done  with  the  hand 
without  the  heart  does  not  occupy  the  working  faculty. 

What  we  need  is  to  love  our  work  ;  then  we  are  happy, 
whether  we  are  rich  or  poor.  The  poor  mechanic,  to  wliom 
liis  occupation  is  an  art,  who  "  treats  it  as  something  to  be 
always  done  "  as  well  as  it  can  be  done,  enjoys  it  for  its  own 
sake,  apart  from  its  outward  results.  To  do  something  as 
well  as  it  can  be  done,  makes  it  a  work  of  art ;  to  do  some 
noble  thing  as  well  as  it  can  be  done,  is  high  art.  Now  to 
the  artist,  his  art  is  its  own  reward.  The  true  artist  is 
happy,  though  unknown  and  poor,  without  fame,  society,  or 
comfort.  He  finds  satisfaction  enough  in  his  work.  Let  us 
all  do  our  work  as  art,  and  we  shall  all  be  happy  in  doing  it. 

For  this  end,  in  selecting  an  occupation,  we  should  think 
not  so  much  of  its  outward  rewards,  as  its  inward  adapta- 
tion to  our  tastes  and  powers,  of  its  improving  influence  on 
the  mind  and  character,  of  its  usefulness  to  society,  and  its 
need  of  more  cultivators.     Then  we  should  not  see  so  many 


326  NEGATIVE   AND   POSITIVE    RELIGION. 

young  men  rushing  into  mercantile  pursuits,  or  into  the 
practice  of  the  law,  in  hopes  of  gaining  wealth  or  power. 
Then  would  agriculture  be  sought  out,  cherished,  cultivated, 
and  improved,  and  the  highest  intellects  devoted  to  the  most 
useful  work. 

VI.  Consider,  also,  the  Oratory  of  the  Soul,  or  its  place 
of  Worship. 

This  part  of  the  soul  also  abhors  a  vacuum  ;  for  wor- 
ship is  natural  to  man.  We  must  worship  something  true 
and  good,  or  else  we  shall  worship  something  false  and  evil. 
The  only  cure  for  idolatry  is  true  religion.  The  only  cure 
for  superstition  is  spiritual  worship.  A  low  form  of  piety 
can  only  be  dispossessed  by  a  higher  form. 

The  Mohammedan  religion,  which  worships  one  God,  and 
worships  him  spiritually,  is  higher  than  paganism,  higher 
than  idolatry,  and  consequently  has  driven  them  out,  and 
taken  their  place  in  all  of  south-western  Asia  and  northern 
Africa.  But  Christianity  is  higher  than  Mohammedanism, 
and  consequently  has  conquered  it,  wherever  the  two  are 
fairly  opposed.  Protestant  Christianity  is  higher  than  Ro- 
manism, and  accordingly  swept  it  from  the  face  of  half 
Europe  in  the  sixteenth  century.  A  better  religion  alone 
can  keep  out  a  poorer  one,  but  it  must  be  positive  and  living  ; 
it  must  be  real  and  solid :  not  a  form  only,  nor  a  name. 

Thus,  although  Christianity  is  a  higher  form  of  religion 
than  that  of  Mohammed,  yet  in  the  eighth  century  the  latter 
overran  parts  of  Christendom,  because  the  Christianity  of 
those  regions  had  lost  its  life  and  substance.  Islam,  though 
lower  than  the  gospel,  was  more  real  than  the  Christian  faith 
in  its  neighborhood.  It  took  possession  of  an  empty  house : 
that  is  the  explanation  of  its  success. 

So,  although  the  Protestant  faith  is  higher  than  the  Roman 
Catholic,  and  was  able  to  overcome  it  easily  when  it  was 
full  of  life,  yet  the  Catholic  Church  regained  its  lost  posses- 
sions when  Protestantism  changed    from  a  matter  of  faith 


NEGATIVE   AND   POSITIVE   RELIGION.  327 

to  a  matter  of  opinion.  When  the  Catholic  Church  be- 
came real,  and  the  Protestant  became  a  form,  the  former 
triumphed  again. 

And  so,  too,  I  certainly  believe  that  Unitarian,  or  Liberal 
Christianity,  is  a  higher  form  of  faith  than  Orthodoxy,  and 
must  one  day  replace  it.  But  then  it  must  be  full  of  life  and 
substance.  A  live  Orthodoxy  will  always  conquer  and  drive 
out  a  dead  Liberality,  and  ought  to  do  so. 

All  reaction  is  of  this  kind.  A  reform  comes,  which,  in  its 
first  enthusiasm,  goes  farther  than  it  is  able  to  maintain  itself. 
The  excitement  passes,  the  fire  cools.  The  soul  is  left  empty. 
Incapable  of  maintaining  the  higher  stand-point,  it  goes  back 
to  a  lower,  where  it  can  hold  itself  without  so  much  effort.  It 
is  better  to  have  a  religion  not  quite  so  deep  and  high,  but 
something  which  is  real,  substantial,  and  safe.  The  small 
and  poor  house,  which  is  a  home,  is  better  than  the  palace 
which  is  empty  and  cold. 

The  condition  of  the  Jewish  people,  at  the  time  Jesus 
uttered  the  Parable  of  the  Empty  House,  was  of  this  sort. 
The  Laio  of  Moses  has  cleansed  the  national  conscience.  To 
this,  Greek  culture  had  been  added  by  the  Roman  conquest. 
It  had  given  a  superficial  varnish  to  the  Jewish  intellect ;  it 
had  veneered  it  w'ith  a  polished  surface.  But  because  no 
liigh  spirit  of  religion  occupied  the  national  mind,  because 
they  went  through  a  formal  routine  of  outside  ceremonies, 
they  were  exposed  to  relapse  into  the  hypocrisy  of  Pharisee- 
ism  and  the  scepticism  of  Sadduceeism.  Because  God's 
leaven  was  not  in  them,  they  were  exposed  to  the  leaven  of 
the  Pharisee  and  the  Sadducee. 

For,  while  the  substance  of  Jewish  morality  is  positive, 
its  form  is  mostly  negative.  Its  suhstance  is  love  to  God, 
and  love  to  man ;  its  form  is  in  the  negations  of  the  Ten 
Commandments. 

"  Thou  slialt  have  no  other  God  but  me.'* 

*'  Thou  shalt  not  make  a  graven  image." 


328  NEGATIVE   AND   POSITIVE   RELIGION. 

"  Thou  shalt  do  no  murder." 

"Thou  shiilt  not  steal." 

"  Thou  shalt  not  bear  false  witness." 

"  Thou  shalt  not  covet." 

This  is  the  difference  between  mere  law,  in  all  its  forms, 
and  the  gospel.  The  law  is  negative,  morality  is  negative, 
ethics  is  negative,  culture  is  negative  ;  and  they  leave  the 
soul  swept  and  garnished,  but  empty. 

Only  love  can  occupy  the  soul.  Love  to  God,  producing 
love  to  man,  making  everything  which  God  has  made  inter- 
esting, making  all  nature,  all  knowledge,  all  duty,  all  human 
beings,  all  life,  all  work,  interesting,  —  making  religion,  not 
a  thing  of  form  and  ceremony,  not  a  thing  of  opinion  and 
creed,  but  a  life  full  of  love. 

Such  a  religion  alone,  which  is  the  gospel  of  Christianity, 
—  such  alone  can  fill  the  soul,  and  occupy  it  entirely,  so  that 
there  is  no  room  for  anything  else  to  come  in. 

On  the  coast  of  Northumberland  stands  a  castle  on  a  high 
hill,  built  by  an  old  Saxon  king,  bought  by  Lord  Crewe, 
Bishop  of  Durham,  and  devoted  to  charity.  It  contains  a 
granary,  in  which  grain  is  sold  to  the  poor  at  first  cost.  It 
has  groceries,  conducted  on  the  same  principle  ;  and  an  infir- 
mary, where  advice  and  medicine  are  given  gratis  ;  fifteen 
hundred  persons  annually  apply  for  goods  at  these  stores. 
It  has  large  free  schools  for  boys  and  girls,  to  whom  books 
and  paper  are  given  without  charge.  Twenty  poor  girls  are 
boarded,  educated,  clothed,  and  provided  for  in  the  castle. 
It  also  contains  apartments  and  beds  for  thirty  shipwrecked 
seamen  ;  a  patrol  watches  the  coast  every  stormy  night  for 
Q,vA\i  miles  ;  a  reward  is  offered  to  those  who  shall  first  discover 
a  wreck  ;  a  nine-pounder  is  fired  at  regular  intervals  during 
stormy  nights  ;  a  flag  is  kept  flying,  and  a  bell  in  the  tower 
tolling,  as  signals  to  those  at  sea,  or  for  those  \\\\o  have  come 
to  laud  ;  provisions  are  sent  to  vessels  which  may  need  that 
aid.  These,  and  other  arrangements,  are  for  the  purpose 
of  helping  vessels  in  distress  on  that  stormy  coast. 


NEGATIVE   AND   POSITIVE   RELIGION.  329 

This  castle  symbolizes  the  spirit  of  the  coming  age.  The 
good  spirit  has  mastered  the  evil  one,  has  taken  from  him 
his  weapons,  and  is  using  the  means  made  to  destroy  men's 
lives  for  the  purpose  of  saving  them.  The  cannon  is  fired 
to  inspire  courage  and  hope.  The  flag  flies,  not  to  call  the 
country  to  fight  with  their  neighbors,  but  to  aid  them.  As 
daring  courage,  as  generous  heroism,  is  displayed  in  saving 
men  as  once  in  destroying  them.  The  evil  spirit  of  War  is  not 
only  cast  out  of  his  ancient  home,  but  the  house,  swept  and 
garnished,  is  not  left  empty  ;  it  is  filled  with  the  heroism  of 
love  and  good  will. 

A  religion  of  love,  which  makes  God  lovely  to  the  heart ; 
which  makes  nature,  duty,  life,  death,  and  eternity  lovely ; 
which  fills  life  and  death  with  beauty,  hope,  and  joy,  —  this 
alone  can,  but  this  always  can,  keep  out  of  this  house  of  the 
soul  every  evil  spirit,  and  this,  thei^fore,  is  salvation,  is 
perfect  safety.     It  is  being  filled  with  all  the  fulness  of  God. 

The  result  of  all  is,  that  the  house  of  the  soul  is  only 
occupied  fully  and  really  when  God  and  Christ  come  and 
dwell  in  it.  It  is  empty  till  then ;  there  is  a  sense  of 
vacancy  in  it  till  we  feel  that  God  dwells  with  us,  and  in 
us  ;  then,  all  is  good,  all  joyful,  all  safe.  Then  the  soul  is 
happy. 

"  Where  God  abides,  contentment  is  an  honor, 
Such  guerdon  Meekness  knows  ; 
His  peace  within  her,  and  his  smile  upon  her, 
Her  saintly  way  she  goes. 

*'  The  angels  bend  their  eyes  upon  her  going 
To  guard  her  from  annoy ; 
Heaven  fills  her  full  with  tranquil  overflowing 
Of  calm,  celestial  joy. 

*'  The  white-robed  saints,  the  throne  stars  singing  under, 
This  state  all  meekly  bear, 
Whose  pauseless  praise  wells  up  from  hearts  that  wonder 
That  ever  they  come  there." 


XXVIII. 

WEEDS. 
Luke  viii.  7 :  "  The  thorns  sprang  up  with  it,  and  choked  it." 

IN  order  to  have  a  good  garden,  what  do  we  want? 
First.    We  Avant  good  soil. 

Secondly.  We  want  a  good  climate,  good  exposure,  sun 
enough,  and  rain  enough. 

Thirdly.  We  want  good  plants,  good  seed,  good  kinds  of 
vegetables  and  fruits.     And, 

Fourthly.  We  need  to  keep  out  weeds  by  sufficient  hoeing 
and  digging. 

We  may  have  the  three  first  conditions ;  but  without 
the  fourth,  we  shall  not  have  the  good  garden.  We  may 
have  a  fine,  rich  soil ;  but  the  better  the  soil  is,  the  more 
weeds  it  will  produce.  We  may  have  a  fine,  warm,  and 
moist  climate  ;  but  this  will  develop  the  weeds  quite  as  fast 
as  it  does  fruits  and  flowers.  We  may  have  the  choicest 
plants  ;  but  it  is  throwing  them  away  to  plant  them,  and 
then  to  let  them  be  choked.  The  most  ignorant  person  who 
undertakes  to  raise  a  few  vegetables  knows  this,  and  acts 
accordingly.  lie  knows  he  must  keep  his  garden  well 
weeded,  or  he  has  wasted  his  land,  time,  and  money. 

Human  life  is  a  garden,  to  which  the  same  rules  apply. 
It  is  a  garden  in  which  God  desires  to  raise  fruits  and  flow- 
ers of  immortal  beauty.  Christ  came  to  order  it  and  arrange 
it  as  Chief  Gardener.      He  fences  in  piece  after  piece,  to 

(330) 


WEEDS.  331 

become  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  The  wild,  hard  earth  of 
mankind,  with  its  wars,  its  cruelty,  its  barbarism,  its  sensu- 
ality, its  selfishness,  he  means  to  turn  into  a  lovely  garden  ; 
bearing  the  fruits  of  love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering,  gentle- 
ness, goodness,  faith,  meekness,  and  temperance.  He  calls 
on  us  to  come  into  his  garden,  and  to  be  laborers  with  him. 
There  is  a  good  soil,  and  a  good  climate,  and  good  seed,  all 
ready.  Labor  alone  is  wanted.  The  soil  is  the  human 
heart.  It  is  good  soil ;  because,  when  well  ploughed  by  life's 
struggles  and  sorrows,  warmed  by  the  sun  of  joy,  and  soft- 
ened by  the  dews  and  rains  of  sorrow,  it  can  nourish  the 
seeds.  But  it  will  produce  weeds,  and  feed  them  too,  if  we 
neglect  it.  Theologians  argue  that  the  human  heart  is  very 
bad,  because  it  yields  all  sorts  of  vices  and  follies  so  easily. 
But  the  better  the  soil,  the  more  it  tends  to  weeds.  You  do 
not  call  a  piece  of  ground  bad  ground,  because  weeds  grow 
readily  in  it ;  you  call  it  good  ground.  So  the  heart,  which 
has  a  great  capacity  for  good,  has  also  a  great  capacity  for 
evil.  Tiierefore,  though  the  human  heart  tends  to  evil  so 
easily,  I  call  it  good  ground. 

There  is  also  a  good  Climate.  It  is  our  daily  life  of  joy 
and  sorrow,  temptation,  trial,  labor,  pleasure.  The  relations 
of  home,  of  school,  of  business,  of  amusement,  —  they  are  all 
meant  to  educate  us  for  heaven  here  and  hereafter.  If  we 
are  successful  and  prosperous,  that  is  a  warm,  sunny  day. 
If  we  are  poor  and  disappointed,  that  is  a  sudden,  gusty 
shower,  which  bends  the  plants  to  the  ground,  and  pours 
torrents  of  water  which  cut  the  earth  in  gulleys  ;  or  a  long, 
cold,  driving  storm.  But  sun  and  rain  come,  both  of  them, 
to  ripen  the  vegetation  ;  and  it  could  not  ripen  without  them. 
Nevertheless,  sun  and  rain  ripen  weeds  just  as  fast  as  flow- 
ers. Prosperity  develops  gratitude,  and  also  pride  ;  wealth 
increases  generosity,  and  also  luxury  ;  sorrow  causes  us  to  be 
patient,  or  to  repine  ;  poverty  produces  courage,  or  discour- 
agement and  despair.     But  as  we  do  not  quarrel  with  the 


332  WEEDS. 

sun  and  rain  for  quickening  the  weeds,  so  let  us  not  attack 
Providence  for  the  evil  tendencies  which  it  increases. 

The  Seed  is  the  holy  Word  of  Jesus.  His  words,  which, 
sown  in  thousands  of  hearts,  have  produced  new  hope  and 
trust,  a  new  purpose  of  life,  a  new  sense  of  the  beauty 
of  holiness,  a  new  feeling  of  responsibility,  —  this  is  the 
good  seed  which  Christ  sows  in  his  field. 

Having,  therefore,  a  good  Soil,  a  good  Climate,  and  good 
Seed,  let  us  consider  what  are  the  Weeds  we  have  to  con- 
tend against. 

1.    Care  is  a  weed. 

It  roots  itself  deeply.  It  also  twists  its  roots  among  those 
of  the  good  plants.  It  is  hard  to  get  at  it,  to  get  it  out ;  yet 
it  is  a  very  bad  weed. 

Care  usually  puts  on  a  fine  appearance  in  the  garden. 
It  really  looks  like  a  good,  useful  plant,  and  not  at  all 
a  bad  weed.  It  calls  itself  duty  or  necessity.  It  often  asks 
that  the  plants  shall  be  plucked  up  to  make  it  room ;  and 
many  an  inexperienced  gardener  removes  delicious  berries 
or  fair  roses  that  they  may  not  be  in  the  way  of  this  imper- 
tinent weed.  Martha  requested  of  Jesus  that  Mary's  devo- 
tion might  be  pulled  up,  to  give  room  for  some  of  her  care  to 
be  planted  in  the  place  of  it.  But  the  Saviour  said,  "  No, 
Martha ;  thou  art  careful  about  much,  but  Mary  has  chosen 
the  good  part  which  shall  not  be  taken  from  her." 

Jesus  did  not  love  care.  In  his  first  sermop,  when  his 
pulpit  was  the  mountain-top,  he  preached  against  it.  "  Take 
no  thought  for  the  morrow,"  said  he.  "  Be  not  anxious 
about  your  life,  what  ye  shall  eat,  and  drink,  and  wear." 
And  Paul  says,  "  Be  careful  for  nothing."  But  in  New 
England  we  are  a  very  careful  people.  In  our  cheerfulest 
liours  care  is  not  far  away.  Our  children  become  careful 
and  anxious  too  soon  ;  they  are  made  careful  about  their 
studies  or  rank  at  school,  and  soon  about  their  success  in 
life.     What  an  atmosphere  of  care  broods  over  Boston  !  — 


WEEDS.  333 

worse  than  the  November  fogs  over  London  !  No  one  can 
escape  from  it.  You  meet  a  man  galloping  cheerfully  over 
the  Mill-dam.  His  horse  carries  double  —  black  Care  sits  be- 
hind him.  The  merchant  is  anxious  about  his  business  ;  his 
wife  is  anxious  about  her  evening  party.  His  anxieties  are 
at  their  height  about  two  o'clock  ;  hers  about  nine.  Then 
what  cares  are  involved  in  housekeeping,  and  especially  in 
keeping  house  like  every  one  else,  having  your  brasses  just 
as  bright  as  theirs,  and  your  door-steps  just  as  clean,  and 
your  children  dressed  just  like  theirs  !  "  Take  time,"  we 
say,  "  O  husband  and  wife,  O  father  and  mother,  to  see  each 
other  and  your  children.  Walk  together  on  the  Common ; 
sing  and  chat,  -and  be  kind  and  pleasant  together,  and  with 
your  neighbors."  "  We  cannot,"  you  reply  ;  "  our  duties 
must  be  attended  to."  Thus  it  is  that  Care  gets  itself  bap- 
tized again,  changes  its  name  Avithout  permission  of  the 
General  Court,  and  makes  itself  known  to  us  as  duty.  But 
I  know  you,  O  Care,  and  I  will  not  let  you  impose  on  us  by 
this  fine  name.  Our  duty  is  to  live  ;  to  be  healthy  in  body 
and  mind,  to  trust  in  God.  The  primal  necessity  is  to  have 
time  for  rest,  and  happy  intercourse,  and  kind,  neighborly 
visits.  Does  man  live  by  bread  only,  and  not  by  every 
word  out  of  God's  mouth? 

Care  chokes  the  Word.  It  bends  our  backs,  and  turns 
our  faces  to  the  ground,  and  Ave  cannot  see  God's  heaven 
over  us.  It  makes  us  the  slave  of  stocks  and  ships,  of  car- 
pets and  chairs,  of  fashion  and  opinion.  It  is  a  bad  weed, 
and  ought  to  be  rooted  out. 

2.  Pleasure  is  another  weed  Avhich  chokes  the  Word. 
Care  on  one  side,  pleasure  on  the  other,  —  pleasure,  when 
loved,  when  pursued  as  an  end  ;  pleasure,  when  quaffed  by 
itself  in  full  draughts,  instead  of  being  breathed  as  the 
atmosphere  which  lightens  toil  and  accompanies  duty. 
Pleasure  should  not  go  by  itself,  but  walk  hand  in  hand 
with  Use  ;  —  as  architects  say,  an  ornament  ought  not  to  be 


334  WEEDS. 

put  on  to  a  building,  but  you  should  make  the  necessary 
parts  also  ornamental.  People  too  often  rush  from  care  to 
pleasure,  and  from  pleasure  back  to  care,  thus  doubly  chok- 
ing the  word  of  life.  It  is  not  pleasure  which  is  bad,  but 
the  love  of  pleasure  ;  just  as  it  is  not  riches  which  are  bad, 
but  the  trust  in  riches.  God  made  everything  pleasant  to 
the  eye  and  ear  and  hand.  The  more  pleasure  we  have  in 
life,  the  better  we  are.  A  sunny,  smiling,  cheerful,  hearty, 
good-humored  person  is  a  much  better  Christian  than  a  sour, 
sad,  gloomy  one  ;  though  the  former  may  not  be  thought 
nearly  so  pious  as  the  latter.  We  are  to  become  as  little 
children  in  order  to  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  See  how 
children  are  pleased  with  everything  —  with  digging  in  the 
ground,  paddliug  in  the  water,  making  houses  of  sand  and 
sticks  !  So  should  we  find  pleasure  —  healthy  pleasure  —  in 
work,  in  study,  in  talk,  in  rest,  in  a  bright  morning,  in  a 
driving  snow-storm,  in  a  rosy  sunset ;  in  saying  a  kind  word, 
in  doing  a  kind  deed.  True  pleasure  is  ail  around,  ready  to 
flow  over  the  lieart  from  all  of  life.  But  when  we  love 
pleasure,  then  we  refuse  to  enjoy  the  present  moment,  look- 
ing for  some  special,  separate  enjoyment  to  be  had  to-mor- 
row or  next  day.  This  aiming  at  pleasure  as  an  end 
destroys  present  enjoyment,  and  chokes  the  Word  of  Jesus. 

All  duty  and  all  real  life  are  in  the  present  moment.  Now 
is  the  accepted  time.  To  be  able  to  plunge,  with  our  whole 
mind  and  heart,  into  the  present  work,  is  the  great  secret 
both  of  joy  and  of  Christian  progress.  "Whatever  thy 
hand  finds  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might."  What  thy  hand 
finds  ;  not  what  thy  fancy  imagines,  not  what  thy  mind  con- 
ceives ;  but  what  thy  hand  finds,  what  is  close  at  hand. 
But  care  and  the  love  of  pleasure  both  cause  the  mind 
to  be  preoccupied,  distracted  ;  the  present  moment  goes  for 
nothing;  we  are  looking  out,  with  anxiety  or  hope,  to  the 
to-niorrow. 

The  human  soul  is  not  very  large  ;  it  will  not  hold  a  great 


WEEDS.  335 

many  things  at  the  same  time.  If  you  fill  it  with  cares  and 
pleasures,  there  will  be  little  room  for  Christian  faitli,  and 
hope,  and  love. 

Especially  pleasure  in  doing  good,  in  saying  good,  wishing 
good,  —  this  pleasure  makes  us  good,  saves  us  from  care. 

We  need  religion  for  active  duty,  for  active  obedience,  for 
daily  work. 

3.  One  weed  which  chokes  the  "Word  is,  a  certain  false 
shame  about  religion.  There  is  a  kind  of  mock-modesty  in 
regard  to  prayer,  and  trust,  and  reliance  on  God.  People 
are  too  modest  to  pray ;  they  do  not  think  they  are  fit  to 
pray;  they  keep  away  from  God  and  heaven;  just  as  little 
children  sometimes,  when  you  call  them,  put  their  finger 
in  their  mouths,  and  stand  and  look  at  you.  But  if 
some  barking  dog  should  come  and  frighten  the  child, 
it  would  forget  its  diffidence,  and  run  straight  to  you  to  be 
protected.  This  is  the  advantage  of  terror  in  religion,  to 
most  people.  When  men  are  thoroughly  frightened  about 
hell,  they  forget  their  diffidence,  and  run  straight  to  God, 
and  pray  to  him  for  help.  These  are  the  uses  of  danger  :  to 
break  down  our  cold,  icy  habits,  with  which  we  freeze  our- 
selves till  we  lose  all  power  of  natural  motion.  I  was 
interested  in  reading  a  simple  narrative,  written  by  a 
Massachusetts  soldier,  who  escaped  from  the  rebels,  and 
travelled  day  and  night,  seeking  the  Union  lines,  always  in 
danger  from  secessionists,  and  always  sheltered,  protected, 
and  guided  by  the  slaves.  Finally,  they  found  for  him  a 
canoe,  dug  out  of  a  log,  and  provided  him  with  a  bag  of 
provisions,  and  directions,  and  sent  him  on  his  way  down  the 
river.  But  on  the  bank,  before  taking  leave  of  him,  they 
said,  "  We'se  goin'  to  pray  for  you,  massa ; "  and  so,  as 
long  as  he  could  see  them,  they  were  kneeling  on  the  sod,  on 
the  river  bank,  praying  for  him.  No  wonder  that  he  felt 
safer,  as  he  drifted  on  his  way,  under  the  shelter  of  those 
effectual,    fervent   prayers.      No    wonder   if    he   was   safer 


336  WEEDS. 

for  them,  and  if  he  thought  "svonderingly  with  himself  of 
the  power  and  beauty  of  prayer,  believing  in  it  as  he  never 
had  before.  For  in  the  face  of  real  danger  this  weed  of 
mock-modesty  disappears. 

4.  One  of  the  Aveeds  which  Jesus  mentions  is  the  deceit- 
fulness  of  riches.  Riches  mean  something  different  to  every 
different  person.  A  Savage  is  rich  when  he  gets  a  couple  of 
nails  and  an  iron  hoop.  An  Irish  laborer  is  rich  when  he 
owns  a  little  shanty  and  a  cow.  A  Scholar  is  rich  when  he 
is  able  to  buy  a  dictionary  and  grammar  with  which  to  study 
some  new  language.  An  Artist  is  rich  who  gets  enough  to 
take  him  to  Rome,  so  as  to  live  or  study  there.  Dean  Swift 
said  he  expected  to  be  rich  when  he  could  have  one  hundred 
pounds  a  year  for  life,  with  a  small  house,  and  garden  at- 
tached. "  Well,"  says  he,  "  I  have  it,  and  more  ;  but  then 
I  think  now  that  it  is  mine  only  till  I  die. 

*  I  often  think  'twould  sound  more  clever, 
To  me  and  to  my  heirs  forever.' " 

The  deceitfulness  of  riches  lies  in  this  :  that  they  make  us 
imagine  ourselves  poor  unless  we  can  get  a  little  more  than 
we  have.  They  cheat  us  by  leading  us  on  and  on,  till  at 
last  we  drop  into  the  grave,  never  having  quite  reached  the 
end  we  had  before  us,  never  quite  satisfied,  never  having 
quite  enough. 

5.  Fashion  is  another  weed  which  chokes  the  Word.  Now, 
we  talk  o^  fashionable  'people  as  though  there  were  only  a 
few  such  ;  but  the  trutli  is,  we  are  all  fashionable  people  ; 
we  all  follow  the  fashions  ;  only  some  follow  rapidly  and 
close  at  hand,  the  others  at  a  longer  interval.  The  Word  of 
God  is  choked  by  the  fashions  of  this  world.  We  must  all 
live  in  a  certain  way,  dress  in  a  certain  way,  spend  our  time 
in  a  certain  way.  Why?  Because  other  people  do  so. 
Once  in  a  while  we  find  a  man  or  woman  who  goes  alone, 
and  docs  what  he  likes  to  do,  and  has  a  good  time.     I  do 


WEEDS.  337 

not  mean  that  there  is  any  object  to  be  gained  in  running 
against  every  prejudice  and  every  custom  of  society.  AYe 
then  should  have  to  spend  all  our  time  in  fighting  fashion, 
which  would  be  just  as  bad  as  to  spend  our  time  in  following 
fashion.  But  what  I  like  is  to  see  people  quietly,  unostenta- 
tiously, modestly,  doing  what  seems  right  to  them,  whether 
the  rest  of  mankind  hear  or  forbear.  Such  persons  only  are 
the  salt  of  the  earth.  Non-conformity  is  always  in  order  in 
this  world  ;  for  most  of  us  waste  life  in  imitating  other  peo- 
ple, and  doing  what  does  us  no  good,  and  no  good  to  any 
one  else,  simply  because  it  is  the  custom. 

6.  But  when  you  have  rooted  up  this  weed  of  conformity, 
there  is  danger  that  another  weed,,  quite  as  bad,  will  take  its 
place  ;  and  that  is  egotism.  As  soon  as  one  is  able  to  stand 
alone  and  to  go  alone,  he  begins  to  think  of  himself  as  being 
the  most  wonderful  being  in  nature.  He  admires  his  own 
independence  ;  and  that  also  chokes  the  Word.  Among  this 
class  of  persons  prevails  what  has  been  called  "  the  triumphant 
reign  of  the  first  person  singular."  They  die,  like  Narcissus, 
of  always  looking  at  themselves.  There  can  be  no  healthy 
goodness  except  when  we  forget  all  about  ourselves,  and 
just  take  a  hearty  interest  in  other  things,  other  persons,  in 
God,  Man,  Nature.  I  think  boys  playing  a  game  of  base  on 
the  Common,  and  only  thinking  of  their  game,  not  of  them- 
selves, are  better  Christians  than  philanthropists  and  saints 
who  are  always  looking  at  their  work  with  one  eye,  and  at 
themselves  with  the  other,  and  intimating  in  every  word 
their  own  importance,  their  own  position,  their  own  activity, 
zeal,  and  generosity.  That,  I  do  believe,  is  the  worst  weed 
of  all,  and  one  of  the  hardest  to  get  out  of  the  garden. 

7.  Then  there  is  another  weed  of  which  I  must  speak  ; 
and  that  is  the  weed  of  talk.  We  can  kill  almost  any  virtue 
by  talking  about  it.  When  you  plant  a  flower,  you  shade  it 
with  a  shingle;  so,  when  you  plant  any  good  purpose  in 
your  soul,  keep  it  shaded.     Do  not  talk  of  it.     When  you 

22 


838  WEEDS. 

do  a  good  act,  keep  it  shaded.  Do  not  talk  about  your 
neighbors'  faidts  or  follies  ;  do  not  gossip  or  prattle  about 
others  ;  do  not  get  a  habit  of  saying  smart  things  (or  what 
you  think  smart  things),  to  make  others  ridiculous.  Tliese 
are  the  weeds  which  choke  the  Word.  By  talking  fifteen 
minutes  in  a  cynical  tone,  or  a  tone  of  scepticism,  or 
persiflage^  or  a  tone  of  contempt  for  others,  you  can  kill  out 
every  good  purpose  and  feeling  in  your  own  soul.  So, 
Beware  of  talk. 

The  difference  between  sentiment,  which  is  good,  and  sen- 
timentalism,  which  is  bad,  is  simply  the  difference  between 
talking  and  not  talking  about  one's  feelings.  Sentiment  is 
feeling  become  conscious  of  itself,  and  capable  of  under- 
standing itself — feeling  which  is  also  thought.  Sentimeu- 
talism  is  sentiment  which  utters  itself.  The  process  from 
feeling  to  sentiment,  and  from  sentiment  to  sentimentalism, 
is  like  that  of  the  sweet  juice  of  the  grape  passing  through 
fermentation.  Feeling  is  the  sweet  grape  juice.  Fermen- 
tation changes  it  into  sentiment,  and  so  makes  wine.  Stop 
there,  and  you  have  something  good,  which  niaketh  glad 
the  heart  of  man  ;  but  let  it  go  further,  and  ferment  again, 
you  have  vinegar.  Feeling  is  sweet ;  sentiment  is  exhilarat- 
ing ;  but  sentimentalism  is  sour,  and  by  no  means  agreeable. 

Consider  the  beauty  of  silence^  which  displaces  all  empty 
gabble,  and  leaves  us  alone  with  God  and  the  soul ! 

There  are  hours  of  silence,  when,  perhaps,  two  friends, 
long  estranged  or  separated,  meet  once  more  in  love  ;  when 
the  son,  who  has  wandered  round  the  world,  returns  to  the 
old  farm-house,  and  sits  between  his  white-haired  father  and 
mother,  and  does  not  say,  "  I  have  sinned,"  and  they  do 
not  say,  "  This  our  son  was  dead,  and  is  alive  again  ;  "  but 
silence  is  his  confession,  and  silence  is  their  blessing  on  his 
head.  And  often  in  the  deepening  night,  when  friends  are 
together,  when  the  talk  grows  still,  and  the  company  sit 
without  speech,  but  feeling  the  electric  chain  of  sympathetic 


WEEDS.  ^  339 

thought  ia  which  we  are  darkly  bound,  have  we  not  felt 
what  no  words  can  utter,  and  said  what  no  language  can 
tell?  When  alone  with  God  and  ourselves,  in  struggles  no 
man  knoweth,  in  sorrows  with  which  the  stranger  cannot 
intermeddle ;  longing  for  death,  though  it  comes  not ;  when 
we  would  dig  for  it  as  for  hid  treasure,  —  in  such  struggles 
as  these,  which  were  never  told,  and  which  we  can  never 
tell,  there  may  have  been  hours  in  which  the  seed  germi- 
nated, swelling  in  silence  in  the  dark  earth,  and  thrusting  up 
its  shoot  through  the  dampness  and  the  cold,  to  bear  fruit 
hereafter  which  should  make  glad  the  heart  of  God  and 
man. 

8.  I  once  saw  this  motto  put  up  by  a  young  man  over  his 
door  :  "  Do  it  now."  It  was  a  warning  to  him  not  to  put  off 
till  to-morrow  what  ought  to  be  done  to-day.  Procrastination 
is  another  weed  which  chokes  the  Word.  Most  persons  like 
to  put  off  their  duties,  and  imagine  they  shall  be  better  able 
to  do  them  some  other  time  than  now.  I  know  one  man,  who 
not  only  answers  his  letters  as  soon  as  he  receives  them,  but 
when  he  gets  a  number  of  letters,  reads  one  and  answers  it 
before  he  reads  the  next.  There  is  something  heroic  in 
that  —  almost  stoical.  Most  people  are  like  Coleridge,  to 
whom  Charles  Lamb  one  day  said,  "  My  dear  Coleridge, 
you  would  be  the  best  Christian  in  the  world  were  it  not 
for  this :  if  you  ever  have  a  duty  to  do,  you  don't  do  it." 
Most  men  need  compulsion,  the  spur  of  necessity,  to  keep 
them  from  putting  off  their  duties.  Postponed  duties  choke 
the  good  seed  and  good  plants ;  for  they  weigh  on  the  mind, 
and  we  carry  the  burden,  not  only  of  what  we  ought  to  do 
to-day,  but  also  of  what  we  ought  to  have  done  yesterday 
and  the  day  before.  So,  at  last,  in  sheer  self-disgust,  we 
go  and  do  the  long-procrastinated  work,  and  find,  to  our  sur- 
prise, that  it  is  a  very  easy  thing  to  do,  and  might  just  as 
well  have  been  done  a  month  ago,  and  then  we  should  have 
saved  ourselves  a  great  deal  of  anxiety  and  remorse.  Pro- 
crastination chokes  the  Word. 


340  WEEDS. 

More  than  all  else,  people  postpone  their  religion.  They 
thiuk  it  best  to  put  that  off  till  they  are  old,  or  sick,  or  dying. 
But  religion  is  daily  bread  :  it  is  meat  for  to-day  as  well  as 
to-morrow.  AVc  need  our  religion  now,  not  when  we  are  go- 
ing to  die.  It  is  not  a  preparation  for  death  —  it  is  a  means 
of  life.  We  do  not  need  religion  half  as  much  when  we  are 
dying,  as  we  do  now  when  we  are  living.  God  Avill  do  all 
for  us  then  —  then  we  shall  have  nothing  to  do  at  all. 
There  is  nothing  easier  than  to  die,  for  we  are  wholly 
passive  in  that  supreme  moment. 

Let  us,  then,  remember,  that,  in  this  great  garden  of 
life,  there  is,  first,  good  soil  in  every  heart  which  God 
has  made.  Our  nature  is  from  God,  therefore  it  is  good. 
Do  not  find  fault  with  your  nature,  for  that  was  sent  you 
by  God,  and  cannot  be  bad.  That  is  good  soil  for  the 
plants  he  wished  to  have  grow  in  it.  To  be  sure,  there  are 
different  kinds  of  good  soil,  adapted  to  different  plants.  So 
each  man  has  a  character  and  nature  of  his  own,  but  each 
nature  is  good  for  something.  Next,  there  is  a  good  climate. 
That,  too,  may  differ  from  year  to  year.  Last  year  we  did 
not  have  as  much  rain  as  we  wished  —  this  year  we  had  too 
much,  and  too  little  sun.  Nevertheless,  each  year  probably 
was  best  for  us  as  it  Avas.  So  one  man's  life  is  very  sunny 
and  warm  all  the  way  through,  and  the  life  of  another  very 
cool  and  shaded  ;  too  wet,  too  cold,  we  say  ;  but  wait  till  the 
end  —  the  end  may  explain  it  all,  and  show  it  to  be  good. 

"  All  as  God  wills,  who  wisely  heeds 
To  give  or  to  withhold, 
And  kiioweth  more  of  all  my  needs, 
Than  all  my  prayers  have  told." 

Then  there  is  good  seed  in  the  gospel.  God  sends  us  liv- 
ing convictions  of  truth.  He  shows  us,  day  by  day,  the 
beauty  of  holiness,  the  beauty  of  generosity,  the  depths  of 
true  piety,  the   heights   of  a  good  purpose.     This  is  good 


WEEDS.  341 

seed.  When  Jesus  said,  "  God  is  a  Spirit,  and  those  who 
worship  him  must  worship  him  in  Spirit  and  in  Truth," 
he  planted  in  humanity  the  seed  of  a  free  and  spiritual 
religion,  -which  should  make  man  one  with  God.  When  he 
said,  "  If  a  son  shall  ask  bread  of  any  of  you  that  is  a  father, 
will  he  give  him  a  stone?"  he  planted  another  seed,  which 
would  sooner  or  later  destroy  all  terror  of  an  angry  Deity, 
and  leave  us  with  the  feeling  of  children  safe  in  a  Father's 
hands.  When  he  said,  "  I  am  the  Resurrection  and  the 
Life,"  he  planted  a  seed  which  should  grow  up  into  a  con- 
viction of  Immortality,  before  which  all  fear  of  death  should 
pass  away.  When  he  told  the  story  of  the  Prodigal,  he 
planted  the  seed  of  infinite  Faith  in  the  tender  love  of  God 
to  his  children.  When  he  told  of  the  Good  Samaritan, 
be  planted  the  seed  of  universal  Christian  brotherhood. 

There  is  good  seed,  and  enough  of  it.  What  we  have  to 
do,  is  to  keep  this  garden  of  our  life  free  from  weeds.  It 
is  a  very  tiresome  work,  and  never  ends.  The  gardener, 
who  has  plucked  up  many  weeds  to-day,  finds  enough  more 
to-morrow.  Weeds  and  stones  —  there  is  no  end  to  them. 
But  to  keep  the  garden  weeded  is  the  condition  of  bearing 
any  good  flowers  and  fruits. 

So  let  us  pluck  up  daily,  out  of  our  life,  these  evil  weeds 
of  Egotism,  Vanity,  Sensuality,  Indolence,  Procrastination, 
Covetousness,  Carefulness,  Love  of  Riches,  Love  of  Pleas- 
ure, Idle  Talking ;  and  so  may  God  help  us  to  present  our- 
selves at  last  faultless  before  the  presence  of  his  glory  with 
exceeding  joy  ;  and  to  Him,  the  only  wise  God,  our  Father, 
be  all  glory  and  praise,  forever  and  forever. 


XXIX* 

"THE  SUMMER  IS  ENDED." 
Jer.  viii.  20:  *'The  summer  is  ended." 

THE  royal  summer  is  over,  —  queeuly  season  of  the 
year.  To  all  of  us,  sitting  here  to-day,  God  has  made 
the  present  of  another  summer.  It  is  as  though  a  great  case  or 
casket  had  been  left  at  each  door,  composed  of  three  divis- 
ions, —  each  division  a  month  ;  each  month  divided  again  into 
thirty  parts,  each  part  a  day.  Then,  in  each  day  was  con- 
tained how  much  of  golden  sunshine,  sweet  flowers,  rich 
fruits,  —  vegetables  and  fruits  filled  with  the  sunshine,  and 
with  currents  of  electric  life  running  through  all  their  cells  ! 
As  each  day's  separate  gift  was  opened,  the  little  children 
stood  expectant  to  see  what  was  to  come  from  it.  Straw- 
berries and  roses  came  together  in  June,  raspberries  and 
cherries  in  July  —  a  long  succession  of  many-colored,  many- 
scented  plants,  diversifying  the  year.  As  men  plant  beds  of 
flowers  on  their  lawn,  a  mass  of  red  here,  and  purple  there, 
and  white  beyond,  —  diversifying  its  aspect  with  these  gay 
colors,  —  so  God  has  planted  the  year  with  these  alternating 
and  succeeding  fruits,  and  flowers,  and  vegetables.  Mean- 
time the  mornings  have  dawned  serene,  and  melted  into 
noon,  and  journeyed  on  to  soft  evening  and  silent  night,  with 
troops  of  summer  stars.     Winds  have  played  with  the  sum- 

♦  Printed  in  the  "Monthly  Religious  Magazine,"  in  18G5. 


THE  SUMMER  IS   ENDED.  343 

mer  clouds,  and  swept  them  on  their  way  through  the  great 
depths  of  blue  air,  and  have  coursed  through  the  leaves, 
waking  them  to  a  many-toned  language  and  song.  Each 
has  had  its  own  voice  —  the  poplars,  with  their  long  foot- 
stalks, garrulous  and  prattling  evermore  ;  stately  firs  and 
spruce,  with  more  solemn  voice  ;  and  pines,  cutting  the  air 
with  their  needles  into  delicate  threads  of  melody.  The 
birds  have  sung,  the  brooks  rippled,  all  day  long ;  the  ocean 
has  swung  long,  steadfast  waves,  an  ever-beating  pulse,  on  the 
rocky  shore.  So  has  each  day  come,  a  new  gift  from  God, 
freighted  with  beauty,  use,  health,  instruction,  opportunity. 
And,  having  received  such  a  gift,  ought  we  not  to  stop  this 
morning,  and  thank  the  Giver,  with  grateful  hearts  ? 

The  casket  this  year  has  overflowed  at  both  ends.  The 
summer  came  to  us  early,  and  went  out  reluctantly.  Sum- 
mer came  in  spring,  and  staid  over  into  autumn  ;  so  that 
we  here,  in  cold  New  England,  have  had  as  much  summer 
this  year  as  men  usually  have  in  Maryland  or  Virginia. 
We  have  been  moved  five  degrees  farther  south,  and  our 
isothermal  line  has  shifted  accordingly. 

But  better  than  longer  sunlight  and  longer  summer  has 
been  the  happiness  we  have  had  in  the  constant  presence  of 
-peace.  For  four  years  we  could  enjoy  no  summer ;  for  our 
brothers  were  toiling  in  the  hot  south,  or  sick  in  southern 
hospitals,  or  fallen  on  southern  fields  of  battle.  Moreover, 
the  nation's  fate  was  hanging  suspended  every  hour  on  the 
dread  arbitrament  of  battle.  One  morning  in  18G2,  at  the 
end  of  May,  after  Banks's  retreat,  telegrams  from  Washing- 
ton called  so  loudly  for  help,  that  the  Governor  of  Massa- 
chusetts summoned  the  whole  fighting  force  of  the  State  to 
meet  on  Boston  Common.  Another  morning  we  rose  from 
our  beds  to  hear  the  strange  story  of  the  "■  Merrimac  "  and 
*'  Monitor,"  the  sinking  of  the  "  Cumberland  "  and  "  Con- 
gress," and  the  danger  to  our  fort,  fleet,  and  cities  suddenly 
averted  by  the  providential  arrival  of  that  nondescript  man- 


344  THE  SUMMER  IS  ENDED. 

of-war — the  only  thing  possible  which  could  have  saved 
Fortress  Monroe  and  Washington.  Amid  such  excitements 
as  attended  McClellan's  campaign  in  the  Peninsula,  Pope's 
campaign,  Burnside's  battle  and  Hooker's,  —  how  could  we 
think  of  summer  or  spring,  of  flowers  or  sea-shore  ?  Four 
summers  came  and  went  almost  unnoticed.  But  now,  with 
peace  around  us,  with  the  nation  safe,  witli  slavery  at  an 
end,  we  draw  a  long  breath,  and,  with  deep  thanksgiving 
at  the  bottom  of  our  heart,  look  out  once  more  on  the  face 
of  Nature,  and  find  everything  "  very  good,"  as  at  first  iu 

Paradise. 

"  The  world's  imwithered  countenance 
Is  fresh  as  on  creation's  day." 

God,  after  his  manner  of  giving,  has  given  this  luxuriant, 
abounding  summer  to  all  of  us.  His  sun  shines,  his  rain 
falls,  on  all  his  children.  He  does  not  sell  summer,  —  he 
gives  it.  It  rolls  over  the  whole  land,  one  great  wave  of 
heat,  light,  verdure,  animation,  growth.  It  comes  to  the 
children  of  the  poor  in  the  country,  on  the  prairie,  and  in 
the  city,  and  makes  a  vacation  for  them,  by  sending  them  to 
a  new  school.  Even  the  children  in  the  city  can  go  to  the 
Common,  or  to  the  Public  Garden,  and  see  some  little  scraps 
of  Nature,  —  kiss  the  hem  of  her  royal  robe,  —  gatiier  tlie 
crumbs  which  fall  from  her  afiluent  table.  But  in  the 
country,  how  the  little  children  revel  in  the  long  summer 
days  !  How  they  wander  through  tlie  woods,  and  paddle  on 
the  lakes,  and  seek  wild  berries  in  the  field,  and  are  all  the 
time  in  God's  great  primary  school,  learning  the  alphabet  of 
his  wisdom,  goodness,  and  power, — learning  to  read  the 
monosyllabic  lessons  of  divine  beauty  and  order !  Tliey 
walk  with  God,  as  the  disciples  walked  with  Jesus  to  Em- 
maus,  and  their  hearts  burn  within  them  as  he  talks  to  them 
by  the  way,  and  opens  to  tliem  his  elder  Scripture,  —  the 
oldest  testament  of  all,  —  the  tables  of  the  covenant,  written 
by  his  own  finger  on  the  rocky  tablets  of  Nature. 


THE   SUMMER  IS   ENDED.  345 

For  Nature  is  not  only  overflowed  with  bounty  for  our  joy, 
—  she  is  a  school  where  we  are  sent  to  learn.  "  Man,"  says 
Bacon,  "  is  her  interpreter  and  servant."  What  have  you 
learned  this  summer  ?  You  have  gone  to  school  among  the 
mountains,  by  the  side  of  the  ocean,  amid  the  quiet  fields  of 
farming  New  England.  You  have  sat  under  elms  in  the 
Connecticut  valley,  and  read  your  book ;  and  your  eye  has 
wandered  up  to  the  massy  multitude  of  leaves  above,  wav- 
ing and  flickering  like  a  mighty  army  on  its  march  ;  light 
flashed  from  ten  thousand  bayonets.  And  perhaps  you  have 
thought  how  God,  descending  from  his  lofty  throne,  cared 
for  every  little  leaf,  cutting  it  into  its  own  curve  of  beauty ; 
and  you  knew  that  this  universal  Father  must  touch  with  an 
equally  patient  skill  every  budding  thought  and  purpose  in 
the  human  heart  of  his  children.  You  have  walked  on  the 
long,  sandy  beach,  and  seen  the  ceaseless  roll  and  break  of 
the  surf,  —  seen  the  immeasurable  smile  of  the  ocean,  —  and 
calmness  has  come  into  your  heart,  while  you  said,  "  The 
sea  is  His.  This  ocean  he  rolls  daily  into  a  thousand  gulfs 
and  bays ;  he  sends  its  tidal  waves  sweeping  round  the 
globe.  He  lashes  it  with  the  tempest ;  he  smooths  it  with 
the  calm.  He  sends  its  currents,  like  rivers  of  the  sea, 
ocean  streams,  bringing  ice-water  from  the  poles  to  cool  the 
tropics  ;  bringing  heated  water  from  the  equator  to  melt  the 
ice  round  Spitzbergen,  and  make  a  little  summer  ten 
degrees  from  the  pole." 

You  have  gone  among  the  mountains,  and  have  there 
looked  at  those  sublime  forms,  rosy  in  morning  and  evening 
twilight,  carrying  up  thousands  of  acres  of  woods  and  rocky 
pastures  into  the  sky,  and  from  whose  bare  tops  you  have 
looked  over  a  panorama  a  hundred  miles  in  diameter.  So 
the  sense  of  grandeur  and  majestic  power  sinks  into  the 
soul.  Here,  in  these  untrodden  wildernesses,  amid  these 
awful  solitudes,  man  ceases  to  think  of  himself,  and  thinks 
of  God. 


346  THE  SUMMER  IS  ENDED. 

Thus  Nature  is  a  school,  —  primary  school,  grammar 
school,  high  school,  university,  all  iu  one.  She  teaches  little 
children  their  alphabets,  while  they  are  at  play ;  teaches 
them  elementary  lessons  of  the  qualities  of  things,  of  hard 
and  soft,  heavy  and  light,  resistance,  momentum,  ductile, 
malleable,  and  clastic.  These  are  her  object-lessons.  Then 
she  takes  those  a  little  older,  and  shows  them  the  grammar 
of  the  world,  the  laws  of  language  in  sea  and  sky.  Man 
at  work  learns  how  things  are  related  to  each  other,  how 
they  fit  together  and  make  sentences.  When  a  carpenter 
builds  a  house,  and  the  foundation  is  not  good,  nor  the  wood 
well  seasoned,  nor  the  room  well  arranged,  that  is  an  un- 
grammatical  sentence.  It  cannot  be  parsed.  Work  carries 
us  farther  into  the  knowledge  of  things  than  play ;  for  it 
makes  us  verify  everything.  The  men  who  dig,  and  plant, 
and  mine,  and  manufacture  ;  who  make  shoes  and  hats  ;  who 
spin  and  weave,  manufacture  glass,  make  watches,  print 
books,  —  learn  necessarily  the  qualities  of  things  and  the 
laws  of  Nature.  Children  playing  are  in  the  primary  school ; 
man  working  is  in  the  grammar  school.  But  Ave  only  enter 
the  high  school  and  university  when  we  go  farther,  and  take 
up  that  greatest  work  of  life,  of  which  the  elements  are 
conscience,  liberty,  and  love.  To  this  all  things  lead,  all 
invite.  Summer  and  winter,  nature  and  society,  success 
and  failure,  life  and  death,  —  all  point  to  this  highest  aim  of 
all  —  spiritual  growth,  religious  progress,  the  salvation  of 
the  soul. 

But  this.  Nature,  by  herself,  cannot  teach.  She  becomes  a 
university,  for  this  higher  teaching,  only  as  she  is  interpreted 
for  us  by  God's  voice  through  inspired  souls,  by  God's  voice 
in  our  own  soul.     Then  the  school  becomes  a  church. 

If  the  summer  has  brought  you  only  passive  pleasure, 
only  selfish  indulgence,  then  it  has  been  wasted.  Rest  is 
good,  and  joy  is  good,  but  as  they  lead  to  something  higher 
and  better.     For  man  is  so  made   that  he   can   never  rest 


THE   SUMMER  IS  ENDED.  347 

contented  in  any  merely  passive  joy.  He  can  only  be  con- 
tented when  he  is  making  progress.  There  are  no  landing- 
places  on  the  stairvvay  of  human  ascent.  You  may  give  a 
man  or  woman  every  wish  of  their  heart.  You  may  give 
them  the  purse  of  Fortunatus,  never  empty  ;  tlie  miraculous 
carpet,  on  which  they  can  journey  through  the  air,  from 
place  to  place,  over  sea  and  land,  by  a  mere  wish.  They 
may  have  St.  Leon's  gift  of  renewed  youth  ;  they  may  go  to 
the  tropics,  and  have  a  perpetual  summer.  But  all  this  is 
Dot  heaven.  All  this,  by  itself,  will  not  satisfy  them  for 
more  than  a  few  weeks.  The  soul  is  not  made  to  be  satis- 
fied so.  The  only  thing  which  satisfies  it,  and  makes  a  per- 
fect rest,  which  turns  all  things  to  gold,  and  earth  to  heaven, 
is  a  heavenly  life ;  that  is,  a  life  in  which  we  have  plenty  to 
know,  plenty  to  love,  and  plenty  to  do,  and  are  making 
progress  to  more  knowledge,  love,  and  use,  all  the  time. 

It  was  to  teach  us  this  that  Christ  came ;  to  teach  us  this 
that  the  Holy  Spirit  comes  daily  to  our  soul ;  that  God 
knocks  at  the  door  of  our  hearts. 

This  teaches  us  that  we  only  have  plenty  to  know,  when 
we  see  God  in  all  things  ;  only  plenty  to  love,  when  we  love 
God  in  all  his  creatures  ;  only  plenty  to  do,  when  we  serve 
him  by  making  ourselves  useful  to  all. 

I  have  taken  my  text  from  the  passage  in  Jeremiah  which 
says,  "  The  summer  is  ended."  But  this  text  is  commonly 
chosen  as  the  subject  of  the  last  sermon  preached  at  a  re- 
vival meeting.  When  all  the  converts  have  been  baptized 
and  taken  into  the  church,  then  the  minister  preaches  a  ser- 
mon from  this  passage  :  "  The  harvest  is  passed,  the  summer 
is  ended,  and  we  are  not  saved." 

1  also  would  ask,  "Are  we  saved?"  Summer-rest  and 
joy  will  not  save  us.  All  the  joy  in  the  universe  heaped  on 
us  would  not  save  us.  Put  us  into  heaven,  put  us  by  the 
right  hand  of  God,  —  that  will  not  save  us.  It  is  to  drink  of 
the  cup  which  Christ  drinks  of,  and  to  be  baptized  with  his 


348  THE  SUMMER  IS  ENDED. 

baptism,  that  saves  us.  We  are  safe,  then,  —  safe  from  the 
perils  which  belong  to  the  great  power  of  freedom  which  is 
in  all  of  us,  —  only  when  we  are  doing  what  Christ  did  ; 
seeing  God  in  all  things,  loviug  God  in  all  things,  and  serv- 
ing God  by  serving  all  his  children.  He  who  is  living  in 
this  spirit,  even  though  he  is  no  saint,  though  he  has  a  thou- 
sand faults,  though  he  is  stumbling  and  falling  day  by  day, 
though  he  seems  to  himself  a  poor  creature,  and  does  not 
seem  much  better  to  any  one  else,  is  safe  —  safe  here,  safe 
hereafter.  All  things  will  work  for  his  good,  and  he  will 
not  be  afraid  of  any  evil  tidings. 

Evil  tidings  are  always  arriving.  Danger  is  always  near. 
We  seem  to  have  been  living,  even  in  this  peaceful  summer, 
in  the  midst  of  terrible  dangers  and  fearful  crimes.  The 
sweetness  of  nature  has  not  saved  us.  Fiends  in  the  form 
of  men  commit  awful  crimes  in  the  midst  of  our  peaceful 
villages,  and  pollute  serene  Nature  with  their  brutal  deeds. 
Men  in  the  enjoyment  of  social  ease  and  affluence  rob  and 
cheat  those  who  trust  them,  till  we  can  hardly  tell  who  is  to 
be  believed.  A  young  man,  who  already  in  youth  enjoys  a 
colossal  fortune,  takes  to  gambling  in  stocks  and  money,  and 
loses  four  millions  of  dollars  at  this  enormous  Rouge  et  Noir 
table  which  we  call  the  Gold  Board.  A  dear  child  in  the 
midst  of  placid  nature,  in  the  hour  of  amusement,  struck  by 
a  sudden  accident,  drops  dead  ;  and  we  shall  see  no  more 
the  fair  face,  hear  no  more  the  brilliant  sentences,  know  no 
more  here  of  that  accomplished  soul.  What  shall  make  us 
safe?  Not  summer  days,  not  the  shield  of  devoted  love,  not 
all  the  bulwarks  which  civilization  and  fortune  place  around 
us  :  nothing  can  make  us  safe  but  a  life  hid  with  Clirist  in  God. 
And  by  this  I  mean  nothing  mystical,  nothing  extraordinary  : 
I  mean  the  simple  purpose  and  habit  of  living  with  our 
heavenly  Father  wlierevcr  we  are,  —  being  in  his  presence  ; 
seeing  him  in  nature,  history,  life ;  and  going,  as  Christ 
went,  about  his  business,  while  we  do  our  own.     Then  we  are 


THE  SUMMER  IS  ENDED.  349 

safe,  even  on  a  railroad  train,  even  in  a  brokers'  board  on 
Wall  Street,  just  as  safe  as  in  a  church  or  prayer-meeting. 
Then,  if  we  fall,  struck  dead  by  sudden  accident,  we  fall,  as, 
in  the  play  of  Lear,  Gloster  thinks  himself  falling  from 
Dover  cliff,  and  drops  on  the  soft  grass  by  his  feet.  We 
fall,  through  death,  into  the  arms  of  God  outspread  to  re- 
ceive us.  We  fall  from  love  into  larger  love  ;  from  knowl- 
edge into  deeper  knowledge ;  from  usefulness  here  into  the 
uses,  whatever  they  may  be,  of  the  great  world  yonder. 

The  sun,  which  makes  summer,  seems  the  natural  type  of 
Deity.  Astronomers  tell  us,  indeed,  that  in  winter  the  earth 
is  nearer  the  sun  than  in  summer.  So  sometimes  we  are 
nearer  God  in  the  chill  and  loneliness  of  our  heart,  than  in  our 
joy.  We  feel  that  we  are  wandering  away  into  outer  dark- 
ness ;  but  God  holds  us  near  himself,  waiting  till  our  hearts 
turn  towards  him,  and  so  receive  their  summer  affluence  and 
influence  out  of  his  radiance.  Summer  comes,  not  because 
the  sun  is  any  nearer  to  us,  but  because  our  part  of  the  earth 
is  turned  up  to  it.  Turn  up  your  hearts  to  God.  Sursum 
corda.  Lift  them  up  towards  God,  —  the  God  of  peace  and 
love,  —  who  images  himself  in  Nature,  in  this  magnificent 
orb  of  day.  No  wonder  that  so  many  races  of  men  have 
worshipped  the  sun.  -  In  how  many  ways  does  it  resemble 
its  Maker !  Like  God,  it  shines  on  the  evil  and  the  good. 
It  is  the  eye  of  the  world,  seeing  all  things,  only  never  seeing 
a  shadow  :  as  God  cannot  look  on  evil ;  for  evil,  when  he 
looks  on  it,  becomes  purified  in  his  light.  All  life,  move- 
ment, activity,  it  is  well  said,  come  from  the  sun.  It  hides 
itself  from  us,  like  God,  in  an  excess  of  light.  The  most 
brilliant  light  which  man  can  produce,  even  the  electric  light, 
makes  only  a  black  spot  on  the  surface  of  the  sun,  and  so 
our  brightest  wisdom  is  only  folly  before  God.  As  the  sun 
marches  through  his  twelve  houses  he  creates  the  seasons  — 
spring,  summer,  autumn,  winter  ;  and  so  God  creates  ever- 
more in  human  life  the  revolving  seasons  of  childhood,  youth, 


350  THE   SUMMER   IS   ENDED. 

manhood,  and  age.     The  sun,  as  the  French  poet  Ronsard 
sings,— 

"Rests  without  rest;  stands  still,  but  makes  no  stay,  — 
Nature's  first-born,  and  father  of  the  day." 

As  the  sun  reaches  out  into  the  farthest  depths  of  space 
with  irresistible  force,  and  yet  moves  all  things  according  to  a 
great  unchanging  order,  so  God  governs  the  universe,  not  by 
pure  will,  but  by  will  and  law.  Even  the  spots  on  the  solar 
surftice  are  now  found  to  have  their  law  of  periodic  return, 
and  come  and  go  in  cycles  of  years.  So  the  darkness  which 
seems  to  hide  the  face  of  God,  the  total  eclipse  of  faith 
which  chills  the  heart  and  mind,  and  the  doubts  which  pass 
across  our  belief  like  spots  on  the  sun,  have  also  their  laws, 
which  we  shall  one  day  understand,  as  we  now  understand 
the  laws  of  the  solar  eclipse,  which  once  terrified  impious 
nations  with  fear  of  an  eternal  night. 

vSo,  as  we  never  tire  of  sunlight,  let  us  rejoice  in  the 
sunshine  of  God.  As  in  the  morning  we  love  to  see  the 
glorious  lamp  of  the  regent  of  day,  "jocund  to  run  his 
longitude  through  heaven's  high  road,"  while  "  the  gray 
dawn  and  the  Pleiades  dance  before  him,  shedding  sweet 
iuflueuce,"  so  rejoice  when  God's  morning  dawns  in  the 
heart,  tliough  its  light  be  as  yet  gray  and  dull.  As  the  plan- 
ets repair  to  tiie  sun  to  draw  light  in  their  golden  urns,  and 
the  morning  star  gilds  the  duplicate  horns  of  her  bediamond- 
ed  crescent  at  its  beams,  so  let  all  our  minds  draw  truth  from 
God,  and  in  this  light  see  light.  And  as  we  love  to  linger 
to  see  the  sun  descending  in  the  west,  with  wheels  bending 
over  the  ocean-brim,  and  shooting  his  dewy  ray  parallel  to 
the  earth,  so  rejoice  when  our  human  life  fades  away  from 
us  in  a  sunset  of  radiance,  and  we  see  the  night  coming  when 
we  fall  asleep  to  dream  of  God,  and  wake  again  in  his  pres- 
ence. Even  the  great  sun  sinks  away  out  of  our  sight,  aud 
seems  to  perish  every  day  ;  but  we  know  that  sinking  here, 


THE  SUMMER  IS  ENDED.  351 

he  is  rising  there.  This  week  there  was  a  sunset  of  uncom- 
mon beauty.  The  western  sky  flamed  Avith  dusky  red  and 
rosy  yellow,  and  was  swept  with  stormy  clouds,  but  interpen- 
etrated everywhere  with  warm,  celestial  radiance  ;  while  a 
rainbow  in  the  east  seemed  to  say,  "  Sink,  dear  sun  ;  but 
sink  in  hope  to  rise  again  in  joy."  So  let  our  life  go  down, 
attended  with  cloudy  witnesses  and  rainbow  promises  of  the 
past  and  the  future. 

The  final  question  therefore  is,  Are  we  saved  with  a  Chris- 
tian salvation?  Are  we  living  with  or  without  God  in  the 
world?  Have  we,  with  this  human  peace  which  makes  our 
land  rejoice,  also  the  peace  of  God  which  passes  all  under- 
standing? Yesterday,  the  54th  Regiment  of  colored  troops 
marched  through  Boston,  on  its  return  from  the  war,  and  was 
disbanded.  Ah,  could  we  do  our  work  as  that  regiment  has 
done  its  work  !  Those  humble  men,  that  despised  race,  have 
been  chosen  by  God  as  his  instruments  in  putting  down  the 
proud  rebellion.  When  they  fought  and  fell  at  Fort  Wagner, 
they  shook  the  hearts  of  the  south  with  terror  at  the  thought 
of  slaves  turned  into  soldiers.  They  have  helped  to  achieve 
the  safety  of  the  nation  and  the  deliverance  of  their  race. 
So  God  chooses  "  the  weak  things  of  the  earth  to  confound 
the  things  that  are  mighty  ;  and  base  things  of  the  earth,  and 
things  despised,  hath  God  chosen,  yea,  and  things  which  are 
not,  to  bring  to  nought  things  which  are." 

So,  though  summer  be  ended,  the  better  part  of  summer 
need  not  be  ended.  We  shall  take  it  with  us  into  winter. 
Whatever  we  have  seen  of  God  in  nature,  felt  of  God  in  our 
hearts,  and  done  for  God  with  our  hands,  makes  a  perpetual 
summer  within.  The  outward  summer  comes  and  goes  :  the 
summer  of  the  heart  shall  abide  forevermore. 


XXX. 


"GOD    SAVE   THE   COMMONWEALTH  OF  MASSACHU- 
SETTS." 

T  B^HE  subject  of  my  discourse  to-day  is  the  prayer  at  the 
i  end  of  our  annual  proclamations  —  ''God  save  the 
Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts  !  "  * 

So  far  as  they  are  living  and  progressive  bodies,  commu- 
nities, states,  nations,  cities,  societies,  have,  or  may  have, 
souls  to  be  saved.  It  is  said,  I  know,  in  a  popular  proverb, 
that  corporations  have  none.  This  may  be  true  of  business 
corporations,  the  main  object  of  which  is  to  make  money,  and 
which  cannot,  as  corporations,  take  account  of  anything  else 
than  the  interest  of  the  concern.  You  may  choose,  as  direct- 
ors of  a  bank,  the  most  charitable  men  among  the  stock- 
holders ;  but  the  charitable  side  of  their  characters  will  not 
appear  when  they  are  deciding  what  notes  are  to  be  dis- 
counted. They  cannot  lend  the  money  of  the  bank  from 
charitable  considerations.     In  this  sense,  therefore,  it  is  true 

*  In  this  discourse  I  am  not  praising  Massaclmsctts  people,  but 
Massachusetts  ideas.  I  have  been  obliged  to  devote  so  many 
Thanksgiving  and  Fast  sermons  to  our  sins,  northern  and  southern, 
to  our  contempt  of  our  brother  man,  to  our  pursuit  of  selfish  ends, 
that  I  was  glad  to  give  one  to  loving  gratitude  for  the  ideas  of  the  old 
Mother  State.  I  am  speaking  here  only  of  the  ideas  we  have  inlier- 
ited  froin  God  and  our  aneestors.  Wo  may  be  very  unfaithful  to 
them  —  we  have  been  unfaithful  to  them;  but  the  ideas,  neverthe- 
less, are  ours,  and  vitalize  our  lives,  and  deserve  to  be  recognized 
gratefully  in  our  Thanksgiving  services. 

(352; 


GOD   SAVE  THE   COMMONWEALTH.  353 

that  corporations  have  no  souls.  But  let  men  go  from  all 
parts  of  the  world  to  settle  Kansas  or  Nevada  —  there  will 
gradually  come  to  them  some  common  character ;  some- 
thing like  a  soul  will  come  up  to  every  such  community, 
which  all  will  share  ;  so  that  by  and  by  you  can  tell  a  Kansas 
man  from  a  Nevada  man.  So  a  type  arises,  derived  from 
their  special  surroundings  —  their  occupations,  their  institu- 
tions, the  public  opinion  which  dominates  their  minds.  Why 
are  the  people  of  Massachusetts  so  different  from  ^those  of 
Connecticut?  They  had  at  first  the  same  origin,  the  same 
institutions,  the  same  religion,  the  same  climate,  soil,  occu- 
pations. Yet  how  different  they  are  !  Massachusetts  is  intel- 
lectually active,  Connecticut  more  slow.  One  is  progressive, 
the  other  conservative.  The  one  is  hospitable  to  all  new  ideas, 
the  other  is  reluctant  to  accept  them.  Why  should  the  Uni- 
tarians have  a  hundred  churches  in  Massachusetts,  and  only 
one  in  Connecticut?  Why  should  Massachusetts  lead  the 
nation  in  the  great  movements  for  the  abolition  of  slavery, 
for  temperance,  criminal  reform  ;  and  Connecticut  take  so 
little  interest  in  these  matters?  Why  should  Massachusetts 
be  the  firm,  uncompromising  radical  leader  of  the  Republi- 
cans in  politics,  and  Connecticut  waver  uncertainly  between 
one  political  party  and  the  other?  Who  can  tell?  Some- 
how each  state  has  its  own  intellectual  and  moral  character ; 
each  state  has  its  soul,  and  the  two  are  always  and  inevita- 
bly as  different  as  any  two  men  are  different.  Their  souls 
are  different.     That  is  all  we  can  say. 

Now,  the  soul  of  a  state  does  not  consist  in  the  number  of 
its  population,  nor  its  wealth  per  man,  nor  its  climate,  and 
soil,  and  manufactures  ;  all  this  belongs  to  its  body.  The  soul 
of  a  state  is  in  its  Ideas  ;  and  when  we  say,  "  God  save  the 
Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,"  we  mean,  "  God  protect 
and  preserve  the  Ideas  of  Massachusetts."  The  state  is 
destroyed,  not  when  its  wealth  melts  away,  but  when  its 
ideas  are  corrupted.  Massachusetts  has  been  poor  in  wealth 
23 


354  GOD   SAVE   THE   COMMONWEALTH 

once  and  again,  but  it  has  never  been  poor  in  ideas :  so  its 
soul  has  not  faded  or  died. 

The  soul  of  a  state  is  in  its  ideas.  AYhat  are  the  ideas  of 
Massachusetts? 

1.    First,  look  at  its  Ideas  concerning  Industry. 

In  Massachusetts,  work  has  always  been  honorable,  idle- 
ness always  a  disgrace.  A  man  with  nothing  to  do  does  not 
feel  himself  at  home  among  us.  He  feels,  like  a  truant 
school-boy,  very  lonely.  It  is  not  very  amusing,  nor  very 
respectable,  here,  to  be  idle.  Our  greatest  men  are  those 
who  work  the  hardest  —  work  with  hand,  work  with  brain, 
with  cunning  faculty,  with  accomplished  powers.  Our  aris- 
tocrats are  not  those  who  loll  on  sofas  or  drive  fast  horses ; 
but  merchants,  whose  vessels  whiten  every  sea ;  lawyers, 
who  carry  on  a  case  as  if  it  were  a  great  battle  ;  physicians, 
who  take  no  rest,  night  or  day,  till  the  disease  has  been 
beaten  back  from  their  patients'  door.  In  some  countries,  it 
is  not  so.  In  the  slave  states,  it  has  always  been  held  vul- 
gar to  labor ;  and  so  their  native  energy  has  been  sicklied 
over  with  this  disease  of  sloth.  In  France,  before  the  Revo- 
lution, government  was  a  contrivance  by  which  millions  of 
laborers  could  be  compelled  to  support  in  idle  amusements 
the  thousands  who  considered  themselves  gentlemen.  But 
in  Massachusetts  we  work  because  we  believe  in  work,  not 
because  we  are  obliged  to.     It  is  one  of  our  Ideas. 

What  we  are  individually,  that  we  are  collectively.  A 
book  called  the  "Industry  of  Massachusetts"  was  published 
by  the  order  of  the  legislature,  two  years  ago,  giving  the 
capital  invested,  persons  employed,  and  annual  product  of 
the  farms,  forests,  mines,  and  manufactories  in  each  of  the 
three  hundred  and  thirty-three  towns  in  the  state  ;  from  which 
it  appears  that  Massachusetts,  with  1,200,000  inhabitants  in 
18G0,  —  now,  perhaps,  1,500,000,  —  gave  an  aggregate  of 
industrial  products  for  the  year  ending  May  1,  18G5,  of 
8517,240,613,  being  about  a  million  and  a  half  of  dollars 


OF   MASSACHUSETTS.  555 

for  each  working  day  in  the  year;  $1.00  for  each  man, 
woman,  and  child,  old  and  young,  sick  and  well.  The  prod- 
uct of  cotton  manufactures  in  the  state  during  that  year 
was  $54,000,000  ;  of  calico,  $25,000,000  ;  of  woollen  cloths, 
$48,000,000  ;  of  paper,  $9,000,000 ;  of  boots  and  shoes, 
$52,000,000  ;  of  the  whale  fishery,  $6,000,000  ;  of  printing 
and  newspapers,  $5,000,000  ;  of  iron  and  nails,  $8,000,000  ; 
of  clothing,  $17,000,000.  That  may  be  called  a  luorldng 
community.  Go  out  on  any  of  our  railroads,  get  out  at  a 
station,  take  a  carriage,  and  drive  in  any  direction.  You 
will  find  poor,  sterile  fields,  covered  with  stones,  apparently 
incapable  of  supporting  any  population.  Presently  you  come 
to  a  town  in  which  all  the  houses  are  comfortable,  all  in 
repair,  all  neat.  You  ask,  "  Where  do  these  people  get  the 
means  of  living?"  A  man  points  to  a  noisy  brook  running 
through  a  hollow.  They  have  shut  it  in,  set  it  to  work,  and 
they  are  making  cotton-gins  for  the  southern  planters ;  they 
are  making  sewing-machines  to  send  to  Illinois  ;  or  saddles, 
or  railroad  cars,  or  shovels  for  California  miners  ;  or  they 
get  out  ice  from  their  pond  to  ship  to  Calcutta ;  or  they 
braid  straw ;  or  make  gimlets,  artificial  teeth,  chocolate,  or 
refrigerators. 

2.  Thus  another  of  the  Ideas  of  Massachusetts  is  that  labor 
shall  never  be  drudgery,  but  always  Art.  Into  all  work  she 
puts  thought.  That  is  why  our  little  state',  containing  only 
seven  thousand  eight  hundred  square  miles,  the  smallest  but 
three  of  the  thirty-eight  in  area,  is  the  seventh  in  population. 
As  labor  is  elevated,  the  land  can  support  always  a  larger 
number  to  the  square  mile.  A  few  thousand  Indians,  who 
live  by  hunting,  require  a  territory  as  large  as  Texas,  with 
its  two  hundred  and  seventy-four  thousand  square  miles,  to 
roam  over.  The  Indians  of  the  north-west  are  much  dis- 
pleased with  our  Pacific  Railroad  running  across  the  plains, 
because  the  engines  scare  the  buffaloes.  They  tell  us  "  if 
we  want  peace,  we  can  have  it  by  taking  away  the  rail- 


356  GOD   SAVE   THE   COMxMONWEALTH 

road."  A  grazing  community  needs  more  laud  than  a 
farming  community.  In  some  of  the  towns  iu  Hampshire 
County,  they  told  me  the  population  had  fallen  off,  be- 
cause the  farmers  had  ceased  cultivating  their  land,  and 
were  raising  cattle  for  the  market.  Add  manufactures  to 
farming ;  diversify  manuftictures,  as  is  done  in  Massachu- 
setts ;  let  commerce  come  in  also,  —  and  no  one  can  tell  the 
maximum  of  population  which  a  state  can  support.  In 
population  to  the  square  mile,  Massachusetts  stands  at  the 
head  of  the  thirty-eight  states,  having  one  hundred  and  fifty- 
seven.  But  if  you  were  to  drive  along  the  road  from  one 
end  of  the  state  to  another,  you  would  think  three  fourths 
of  it  yet  a  desert.  Massachusetts  can  and  will  support 
one  thousand  or  ten  thousand  to  the  square  mile  more  easily 
than  she  now  supports  one  hundred  and  fifty-seven.  For 
she  supports  the  present  number  of  one  hundred  and  fifty- 
seven  far  more  easily  than  she  formerly  maintained  fifty, 
ten,  or  five.  So  much  for  Malthus  and  his  theory  of  the 
danger  of  an  increased  population. 

The  State  Prison  this  year,  for  the  first  time,  will  cease 
to  cost  the  state  anything.  It  more  than  supports  itself —  a 
thing  unheard  of  in  the  history  of  prisons.  The  five  hun- 
dred convicts,  instead  of  hammering  stone  or  picking  hemp, 
are  all  taught  to  be  skilful  workmen.  The  prison  shops 
produce  bronzes  which  took  prizes  in  the  Paris  Exposition, 
and  mouldings  of  the  finest  quality.  Though  the  convicts 
receive  nothing  for  their  labor,  they  are  as  proud  of  their 
skill  as  if  they  were  to  receive  one  of  the  medals  of  the  Legion 
of  Honor.'  When  labor  is  drudgery,  it  tires  ;  as  it  rises  into 
the  region  of  art,  it  brings  perpetual  joy  with  it.  Educate 
and  elevate  labor  by  an  infusion  of  thought,  and  you  make 
the  laborer  happy  and  contented.  The  man  who  has  learned 
to  manage  a  steam-hammer  of  twenty  tons  so  as  either  to 
cut  iu  two  a  log  of  iron  or  to  put  a  point  to  a  nail,  may  only 


OF   MASSACHUSETTS.  357 

receive  his  two  or  three  dollars  a  day  ;  but  he  is  happy  ia 
the  exercise  of  an  accomplishment. 

3.  Therefore  it  is  that  one  of  the  Ideas  of  Massachusetts, 
from  the  first,  has  been  to  educate  the  whole  community. 
In  our  public  schools,  common  to  all  and  free  to  all,  sup- 
ported by  the  voluntary  tax  of  each  town,  all  the  children 
of  the  state  are  educated.  The  system  established  by  our 
Board  of  Education  works  so  well  that  we  know  every  year 
the  number  of  children  out  of  the  whole  population  in  the 
schools  of  each  town  in  the  state,  with  all  the  other  facts 
concerning  it.  About  one  in  five  of  the  whole  population  of 
Massachusetts  attend  school ;  and  the  amount  raised  in  this 
state  every  year  during  the  civil  war,  by  taxation  alone,  for 
the  public  schools,  was  $1,500,000.  During  all  the  war, 
while  she  put  into  the  army  and  navy  160,000  men,  she  kept 
at  school  250,000  children  out  of  her  1,250,000  total  popu- 
lation. 

4.  Another  of  the  Ideas  of  Massachusetts  is  Humanity. 
The  state  cares  for  all  its  children,  and  feels  bound  to  look 
after  them  all.  Its  maxim  is  that  of  its  Master :  "  Those 
who  are  whole  need  not  a  physician ;  but  those  who  are 
sick."  To  be  sure,  Ave  only  approximate  to  that  idea  as  yet. 
But  we  have  the  idea.  This  state  calls  no  man  common  or 
unclean.  It  says  to  no  one,  "  You  are  good  for  nothing ; 
you  are  worthless."  These  phrases,  "  worthless,"  "  good 
for  nothing,"  are  not  found  in  the  Massachusetts  dictionary 
any  more  than  in  the  vocabulary  of  Jesus  Christ.  The 
blind,  the  insane,  the  idiots,  the  deaf  and  dumb,  the  thieves, 
the  drunkards,  —  and  if  there  be  anything  worse  or  lower 
than  these,  —  these  are  not  good  for  nothing,  but  good  for 
something  ;  and  the  old  state,  our  good  mother,  takes  pains 
to  give  sight  to  her  blind  in  her  asylums,  and  hearing  and 
speech  to  her  deaf  and  dumb  ;  to  illuminate  the  torpid  mind 
of  the  idiot ;  to  cool  the  heated  brain  of  the  insane  ;  to  teach 
those  who  have  never  learned  self-control  how  to  govern  their 


358  GOD   SAVE  THE   COMMONWEALTH 

passions.  And  never  was  this  —  I  will  not  say  paternal 
government,  but  rather  this  maternal  —  government  carried 
farther  than  in  the  administration  of  our  last  governor,  John 
A.  Andrew  ;  who,  amid  the  immense  labors  and  anxieties  of 
the  civil  war,  never  forgot  to  visit  annually  the  prisons,  the 
schools,  the  hospitals,  and  to  open  his  great  heart  and  mind 
to  the  humblest  appeals  from  the  lowest  citizen. 

The  state  has  established  a  Board  of  Charities,  which  pub- 
lishes a  volume  every  year.  This  volume  is  a  record  of  the 
motherly  tenderness  of  the  state  towards  her  poor,  suffering 
children.  It  shows  that  she  feels,  not  a  cold,  hard  sense  of 
the  duty  of  doing  something  for  the  poor,  the  sick,  the 
neglected,  but  an  interest  in  them,  as  those  who  need  most 
thought  and  love.  This  book  treats  of  the  care  bestowed 
by  the  state  on  alien  passengers  arriving  by  sea ;  on  the 
lunatics  in  her  three  asylums  ;  on  the  sick  in  her  hospitals  ; 
on  the  poor  in  her  almshouses  ;  on  the  blind  in  her  blind 
asylum ;  on  deserted  children  ;  on  the  prisoners  at  Charles- 
town  ;  on  the  Reform  Schools  for  children  at  Westborough 
and  Lancaster,  and  the  school  ships  ;  on  the  deaf  and  dumb  ; 
on  the  Washingtonian  Home  ;  on  the  Discharged  Soldier's 
Home  ;  and  the  Home  for  Reformed  Women  at  Dedham 
and  Springfield.  The  state  holds  in  her  beneficent  arms  all 
these  her  poor,  sad,  suffering  children,  and  appoints  her 
wisest  and  best  men  and  women  to  look  after  them  and  care 
for  them. 

In  England,  lately,  a  London  paper,  the  Lancet,  has  ex- 
posed the  dreadful  condition  of  neglect  into  which  some  of  the 
workhouses  had  fallen.  The  peculiarity  of  the  case  was, 
that  the  machinery  seemed  perfect.  There  were  regular 
superintendents,  whose  duty  it  was  to  watch  and  see  that  it 
was  all  right;  inspectors  to  watch  them;  a  board  of  direct- 
ors to  see  that  the  inspectors  did  their  duty,  and  a  general 
supervising  board  to  watch  the  whole.     Notwithstanding  all 


OF  MASSACHUSETTS.  359 

this,  no  one  watched  anything.  But  when  a  London  paper 
sent  down  its  reporter,  he  discovered,  in  a  few  hours,  and 
disclosed  to  the  nation,  abuses  which  had  escaped  the  obser- 
vation of  all  these  officials.  Why  was  this?  The  machinery 
was  there  ;  but  the  soul  was  not  there.  The  idea  of  Massa- 
chusetts, that  these  are  the  poor,  helpless  children,  to  whom 
the  mother  is  bound  to  give  her  chief  thought  and  love  — 
this  was  not  there.  That  was  the  reason.  No  one  watched 
for  them,  because  no  one  cared  for  them. 

5.  From  all  these  roots  Massachusetts  derives  her  Political 
Ideas.  She  is  a  democracy,  through  and  through.  She  be- 
lieves in  human  rights  as  such  ;  in  man  as  man.  Her  democ- 
racy does  not  consist  in  flattering  the  prejudices  of  the  poor 
on  election  day,  but  in  seeing  that  the  children  of  the  poor 
shall  all  be  educated ;  that  the  suffering  among  the  poor 
shall  all  be  cared  for,  and  that  every  one  of  her  three  hun- 
dred and  thirty-three  towns  shall  give  to  every  man  in  its 
borders  equal  rights,  and  an  equal  chance  with  every  other 
man.  In  this  nation  there  were  two  wholly  hostile  systems 
of  politics  :  that  of  Massachusetts  and  that  of  South  Caro- 
lina. The  one  was  represented  by  John  Quincy  Adams,  the 
other  by  John  Caldwell  Calhoun.  These  ideas  came  into 
conflict,  as  ideas,  at  Washington,  on  the  floor  of  Congress  ; 
and  then  with  a  million  soldiers  on  the  bloody  battle-fields 
of  the  Rebellion.  Massachusetts  Ideas  conquered  on  both 
fields.  In  1837,  John  Quincy  Adams  rose,  on  the  floor  of 
Congress,  and  said,  "  I  hold  in  my  hand  a  'petition  jmrport- 
ing  to  be  from  slaves  in  Virginia,''  and  could  not  finish  his 
explanation  for  three  days,  on  account  of  the  tumult  of  rage 
and  violence  which  those  words  excited.  It  was  proposed 
to  expel  him ;  to  suspend  him ;  to  compel  him  to  make  au 
apology ;  to  rebuke  him  by  the  Speaker ;  to  pass  a  vote  of 
censure.  At  the  end  of  three  days  the  storm  subsided,  for  it 
was  found  difficult  to  censure  or  expel  a  man  for  saying  that 
he  held  in  his  hand  a  petition,  purporting  to  he  from  slaves. 


360  GOD   SAVE  THE   COMMONWEALTH 

Then  his  time  came,  and  he  answered  every  person  who  had 
spoken  during  those  three  days,  showing  their  ignorance  of 
the  constitution,  of  history,  of  law,  of  logic.  It  was  like  a 
schoolmaster  administering  correction  to  some  tweuty  noisy 
children.  One  by  one,  each  man  who  had  attacked  him  was 
exposed.  But  perhaps  the  climax  was  reached,  when,  com- 
menting on  the  suggestion  of  a  member  from  South  Carolina 
that  he  might  be  punished  by  a  jury  for  words  spoken  in  de- 
bate, he  said,  "  If  such  be  the  law  of  South  Carolina,  I 
thank  God  that  I  am  not  a  citizen  of  South  Carolina  !  "  On 
that  day  Northern  ideas  defeated  those  of  the  South  in  the 
first  of  the  series  of  victories  which  ended  on  the  field  of 
Gettysburg,  in  the  march  of  Sherman,  the  fall  of  Charleston, 
the  occupation  of  Richmond  by  colored  regiments,  and  the 
surrender  of  Lee  to  Grant.  And  these  victories  will  not 
cease  until  the  colored  people  at  the  North  and  South  are  all 
admitted  to  equal  rights.  There  is  a  little  eddy  just  now, 
which  seems  to  set  backward  ;  but  the  great  current  of  im- 
partial justice  rolls  on,  and  will  roll  on  —  "  in  omne  voluhilis 
cevum." 

6.  Massachusetts  has  also  her  Religious  Ideas,  which  are 
the  most  central  and  vital  of  all.  These  ideas  of  God,  duty, 
immortality,  —  of  Christ  and  his  kingdom  on  earth,  —  founded 
the  state,  and  have  kept  it.  The  religion  of  Massachusetts, 
differing  in  doctrines,  has  always  involved  two  principles,  — 
the  freedom  and  independence  of  each  church,  and  the  appli- 
cation of  relifjion  to  human  life.  Our  Pil";rim  Fathers  came 
here  that  they  might  be  free  from  the  constraint  of  bishops, 
and  that  they  might  apply  Christianity  to  building  up  a 
Christian  commonwealth.  The  religion  of  Massachusetts 
has,  from  the  beginning,  been  a  liberal  religion  and  a  practical 
religion.  Any  infidelity  to  either  principle  arose  from  some 
seeming  conflict  with  its  opposite.  If  they  were  intolerant 
to  Baptists  and  Quakers,  it  was  because  Baptists  and  Qua- 
kers interfered  with  their  work  of  making  a  Christian  Com- 


OF  MASSACHUSETTS.  361 

mon wealth.  They  wanted  them  out  of  their  way  —  that  was 
alh  As  soon  as  Roger  Williams  went  to  Rhode  Island,  they 
let  him  alone.  Whenever  Massachusetts  has  been  intoler- 
ant in  her  religion,  it  was  because  she  wished  to  be  practical 
in  her  religion.  Wherever  she  has  become  vague,  abstract, 
metaphysical,  and  impractical  in  her  religion,  it  was  from 
following  too  far  the  other  impulse  towards  intellectual  free- 
dom. This  is  certain,  that  Massachusetts  religion  is  as  dis- 
tinct as  Massachusetts  politics.  It  may  call  itself  Orthodox 
or  Unitarian,  Methodist  or  Episcopal ;  but  Massachusetts 
Orthodoxy  is  not  like  Orthodoxy  elsewhere  :  it  is  more  free 
and  more  practical.  Massachusetts  Unitarianism  is  not  like 
Polish  or  English  Unitarianism.  Our  Christianity  here  in 
JMassachusetts  is,  in  its  spirit,  the  natural  outgrowth  of  our 
ideas,  and  so  has  a  unity  of  its  own  amid  all  its  diversity. 
Its  spirit  is  freedom,  its  method  is  practice.  Practice  brings 
it  back  from  any  aberrations  which  excess  of  freedom  may 
engender.  Freedom  corrects  any  shallowness  arising  from  a 
too  narrow  view  of  expediency. 

Such  are  our  Massachusetts  ideas.  These  are  the  soul 
of  our  state.  States  only  die  when  their  soul  dies.  As  long 
as  their  soul  remains,  defeat  is  not  destruction  ;  death  is  not 
the  end.  They  rise  again,  as  Greece  rose  after  the  Persian 
armies  had  swept  over  it,  as  Rome  arose  after  the  Gauls 
and  Carthaginians  had  vanquished  it.  Greece  and  Rome 
lived  by  their  ideas.  Inspired  by  art,  beauty,  law,  they 
grew,  and  filled  the  earth  with  their  renown.  It  is  not  a 
great  body,  but  a  great  soul  which  makes  the  state.  Greece, 
a  mere  spot  on  the  map  of  the  world,  lives  an  immortal  life 
in  her  ideas,  though  her  bodily  existence  as  a  state  has  been 
gone  for  two  thousand  years.  China,  with  her  three  hun- 
dred millions,  her  enormous  territory,  and  her  tenacity  of 
outward  existence,  is  like  an  embalmed  corpse  —  "clay, 
not  dead  but  soulless."  China  seems  dead  while  she  lives. 
Greece  lives,  though  dead  ;  and  the  long  torpid  body  is  also 


362  GOD   SAVE   THE   COMMONWEALTH 

awakening  to  new  life  on  the  mountains  of  Crete,  in  heroes 
worthy  of  their  sires. 

How,  then,  are  states  saved?  Jesus  answers,  when  he 
says  to  his  disciples,  "  Ye  are  the  salt."  Men  in  whom  the 
ideas  of  the  state  are  incarnate,  these  renew  its  decaying  life. 
God  has  saved  the  Commonwealth  by  the  long  line  of  illus- 
trious men  in  whom  its  ideas  have  burned  deepest,  making 
them  a  shining  light  and  a  warning  fire.  The  Pilgrim,  Fa- 
thers, whose  enthusiasm  lay  so  deep  beneath  their  Puritanic 
manners  —  the  most  ideal  men  of  their  age,  though  seeming 
the  most  prosaic,  because  their  thoughts  ran  farthest  into  the 
future,  —  Winthrop,  Winslow,  Standish,  John  Eliot,  the 
apostle  to  the  Indians  ;  Sir  Harry  Vane,  from  whose  repub- 
lican integrity  Oliver  Cromwell  longed  to  be  delivered ; 
Anne  Hutchinson  and  Roger  Williams,  proto-martyrs  to  the 
principles  of  religious  freedom ;  the  men  of  the  Revolution, 
Samuel  Adams,  Hancock,  Jonathan  Mayhew,  the  Quincys 
and  the  Adamses,  Beecher,  Channing,  Theodore  Parker, 
Horace  Mann ;  the  generous  souls  who  have  died  in  this  last 
war  for  the  state  ;  and  not  the  least  in  this  long  line  of  illus- 
trious men,  our  own  brother  and  friend,  John  Andrew. 
These  are  our  salt ;  and  by  such  men,  and  such  lives,  God 
has  saved,  and  will  save,  the  Commonwealth  of  Massachu- 
setts. 

In  the  story  of  Abraham  and  Sodom,  we  read  the  saving 
power  of  a  few  good  men  in  a  state.  Ten  good  men  could 
have  saved  Sodom.  But  such  men  must  be  really  good  men  ; 
men  in  whom  the  principle  is  so  strong  that  it  moulds  all 
their  life  to  itself;  men  who  live  for  their  principle.  Such 
men  are  like  candles,  throwing  their  beams  far  out  into  the 
stormy  night,  and  guiding  the  wanderer  home.  They  are 
the  city  set  on  a  hill,  which  cannot  be  hid.  On  this  day  of 
Thanksgiving,  therefore,  while  thanking  God  for  all  his  other 
gifts,  let  us  thank  him  most  of  all  for  good  men  —  men  lov- 
ing justice,  truth,  freedom,  Christianity,  more  than  comfort 


OP  MASSACHUSETTS.  363 

or  peace  ;  men  ready  to  live  and  die  for  an  idea  ;  enthusiasts 
for  goodness  and  right.  These  are  the  men  who  make  a 
state  strong  and  permanent. 

Good  men  save  the  state  ;  but  they  can  only  save  it  when 
all  other  men  are  capable  of  being  moved  and  led  by  their 
shining  examples.  A  time  comes,  in  the  downfall  and  cor- 
ruption of  communities,  when  good  men  only  struggle  inef- 
fectually against  the  tendencies  of  ruin.  Hannibal  could  not 
save  Carthage.  Marcus  Antonius  could  not  save  the  Ro- 
man Empire.  Demosthenes  could  not  save  Greece,  and 
Jesus  Christ  himself  could  not  save  Jerusalem  from  de- 
cay and  destruction.  Nations  can  go  too  far  to  be  saved. 
The  great  hope  of  this  land  is  in  the  fact  that  the  mass  of 
the  people  mean  right,  and,  unless  misled  by  demagogues, 
will  do  right.  But,  for  this  hope  to  be  realized,  all  Christians 
and  all  patriots  must  work  together.  The  great  danger 
to-day  is  not  from  the  President.  Salvation  to-day  is  not 
to  be  expected  from  the  next  President.  President  Johnson 
has  ceased  to  be  powerful  enough  to  hurt  us.  Our  danger 
is  that  the  people,  tired  with  the  sacrifices  demanded  by  the 
war,  will  leave  public  affairs  to  mere  politicians,  and  devote 
themselves  to  their  private  interests.  The  nation  has  three 
great  duties  to  perform,  which  it  cannot  delegate  to  parties 
or  party  leaders.  It  is  bound  to  see  that  the  colored  people, 
whom  it  has  emancipated,  have  a  fair  start  and  full  protec- 
tion in  all  their  rights.  This  can  only  be  done  by  securing 
to  them  education  and  the  ballot.  It  is  bound  to  see  that  the 
Union  is  restored  ;  and  this  can  only  be  done  by  a  generous 
but  wise  treatment  of  the  Southern  States.  They  must  be 
led  into  the^  Union  by  their  hopes  ;  they  cannot  be  driven 
into  it  by  their  fears.  Open  to  them  a  new  career,  a  new 
prospect  of  prosperity  ;  encourage  all  southern  industry,  and 
so  change  their  hearts.  The  third  duty  of  the  nation  is  to 
pay  its  debt,  and  this  cannot  be  done  until  we  resume  specie 
payments.     We  cannot  resume  specie  payments  till  the  cir- 


364  GOD   SAVE   THE   COMMONWEALTH. 

culation  is  reduced.  Merchants  and  business  men  must 
learn  to  look  forward  to  a  fall  of  prices  in  everything,  and  be 
prepared  for  it.  And  the  mass  of  the  people  must  keep  up 
the  tone  they  had  during  the  war  —  a  tone  of  patriotic  readi- 
ness to  make  sacrifices,  and  to  give  freely  of  time,  thought, 
and  means  to  the  interests  of  the  country. 

Tliank  God  for  all.  And  when  our  sister  states  in  the 
South  and  West,  who  sit  on  the  vast  corn-bearing  prairies 
of  the  Mississippi,  or  by  the  blue  Pacific,  shall  say,  "  Sister 
Massachusetts,  why  do  you  claim  to  lead  the  nation?  You 
are  old  ;  we  are  young.  You  have  only  a  little  piece  of  bar- 
ren land ;  we  have  mighty  acres.  You  have  neither  gold, 
nor  iron,  nor  coal,  nor  wheat,  nor  cotton,  nor  sugar.  Your 
people,  compared  with  ours,  are  few,  your  cities  small,"  — 
Massachusetts  may  reply,  "  Sisters,  if  I  lead,  it  is  because 
you  choose  to  follow  where  I  go.  If  I  stamp  my  character 
on  the  nation,  it  is  because  of  the  truth  of  the  ideas  in  which 
I  believe.  It  is  not  the  body  of  Massachusetts,  but  the  soul 
of  Massachusetts,  which  you  follow.  Follow  me  only  so 
long  as  I  follow  truth,  freedom,  justice,  impartial  right,  hu- 
man progress,  and  the  guiding  providence  of  God."  And 
then  shall  all  the  sister  states,  w^ith  consenting  voice,  cry  out 
tofjether,  "  God    save    the   Commonwealth    of   Massa- 

CHUSETTS  !  " 


